#bc everything reached the same conclusion it did in the books

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

rewatching twelve kingdoms is funny bc i am seeing how budget the animation is (literally one scene a guy didnt even have fingers, just a mitten hand) and like. on one hand i would love for there to be a new anime for it, even if its just to pick up where the old one left off, but on the other hand i am afraid of what other changes they might make djhjfdjhgjkhsjk

[nadeen-the-spore]

Percy burning away his mortality is a thing that haunts me because the narrative points there so bad but it's something I always think of outside of canon for fics because I never thought it would go there now I'm wondering if it actually was like it looked like and rick is a pussy because we all know he dropped the ball in boo and I been wondering why for years but not once have I questioned if it was because he walked back this specific plot point.

There's a reason i called it a conspiracy theory. Is it true? Maybe not. Am i gonna keep believing it til proven otherwise? Absolutely

Contrary to what my youtube history would tell you, I am very much not a media analysis person, but imo there's just SO much more that makes sense if you look at it from that angle. If you think about it, Percy (or someone) deciding to overthrow the olympians and replace them is the logical conclusion to the corner RR wrote himself into by making the gods ignore everything he asked them to do over and over.

Beyond the big point of Percy doing things he shouldn't be able to (as pointed out by @ofswordsandpens with tartarus, but also how tf did he create that geyser at the end of BoO) my other favorite tinfoil clue (bc if RR DID plan this it definitely wasnt since the first book but i love to be delusional) is that Percy shouldn't be alive unless something weird was going on.

Percy was basically predicted to die five times off the top of my head, three of them being *prophesies*: the fates in TLT (haha we meant luke we just showed you as a joke :)), his *fatal* flaw (which he got over. Kinda weird for a mortal hero to overcome the thing that's supposed to kill them), the big prophecy (oh it was just Luke again haha), the prophecy of the seven (no death required! Just a very small amount of blood!), and my personal favorite, "the son of neptune shall drown."

The SoN prophecy literally said he was supposed to die. Just saying it was incomplete isn't enough, especially when it had the same setup as the 20-foot jump (we only see him after through Frank's POV, and he's acting very nonchalant about it).

(Sidenote that one might also be explained by my less wild theory that Alaska is also beyond the reach of the fates, because Hazel wasn't fated to die there in the 30s and she, Frank, and Percy were all supposed to die there but didn't in SoN)

Sorry for the awkward ramble. I've been holding it in for a decade :)

[downbadfordraper]

Okay I'm about 60% into book 3 now, Holden has been taken from the Ring Station by Martian marines and went through initial interrogation, so now I have more blather about Novel-Holden v Show-Holden.

In the novel, we see Holden start to believe he really is special, pushed to that conclusion by the (ultimately erroneous) belief that the woman who did the things Clarissa actually did was Julie Mao - that Proto-Julie set off a cascade of events designed to get Holden specifically through the Ring, just like Proto-Miller seemed to he aiming for. He sees that Ring Station, and he head for it without prompting to look for answers, because he believes the protomolecule wanted him here for a reason, and going there would mean both fulfilling his purpose and finding out what that purpose is.

Then Miller reveals he was 'chosen' simply because the real Miller felt a certain way about him - trusted him, it seems to boil down to - and the protomolecule then reached out to Holden bc it absorbed Miller's consciousness, and Miller saw Holden as the guy to get things done, and...that's it. But Holden continues to think more must he at play because why then did Proto-Julie go to such great lengths as part of this conspiracy to bring Holden here? She didn't know him after all.

When Holden explains everything, starting from first seeing Miller a year before, it all hits him - he isn't special at all. He doesn't actually care about that; what he cares about is the fact he bought into it at all. He feels incredibly foolish. Humiliated by his own hubris. I imagine that will get even stronger when he realizes the actual woman behind it all was Julies very much alive and protomolecule-free sister. Holden doesn't necessarily desire being special, but that he jumped to that conclusion at all is humiliating to him.

Then we have Show-Holden. We see Show-Monica suggesting more than once that he's special, but Holden continues to refute it. Even when she says 'I think you are, I think you know you are, I think you like it' he calls her out - says he thinks she's just trying to get a rise out of him. This Holden, much like the written one, would feel foolish if he believed he was special and wasn't. It's possible that part of why he insists he isn't is the belief it would be foolish to think it regardless of evidence presented: the hubris he doesn't want to fall prey to, and which Novel-Holden does.

He also never has the factor of a belief that Proto-Julie is involved. How would that affect Show-Holden though if he did? Would he ask again what makes him special in the way he once asks Proto-Miller the same?

A part of me thinks he wouldn't, because of where the urge to even ask that seems to come from. Show-Holden has had been made very aware of the potentially far reaching consequences of his actions. His sense of responsibility prevents him from doing otherwise, even when he disagrees about the specifics of what he is or isn't at fault for (e.g. he sees his role in the earth-mars conflict earlier in the show as different than other accuse him of, because he sees something that the viewers, on the outside looking in, do: that this was a conflict that had been building over decades, maybe centuries, to the point that what would set it off would be less an instigating element and more an excuse. We see how the political machinations of those like Avasarala reveal this: she's aware that it's an excuse those two militaries and governments are looking for, and her efforts to prevent war are all focused on removing any potential excuses, which she recognizes as a stop-gap solution more than anything else).

Holden's awareness of that is made explicit in the scene on the Station. He refuses to complete that circuit until Proto-Miller tells him what the consequences will be: specifically, what harm it could or will do to others. Seeing a more 'human' Miller who talks about Julie and how it was to die is what enables him to go forward with it: he's shown a version of a man he trusts to *care* about those consequences. He's been reassured that this isn't a malevolent entity; perhaps even one of compassion, even if that compassion originates from the memory of Miller's mind rather than the protomolecule itself. A sense of urgeny does the rest.

So what about that urge to ask? I think it comes less from a place of wanting to know for its own sake, and for his concept of himself, and more from wanting to know so far as what that could mean for humanity in general. He asks 'why me' because if he knows why, he can use that information when he weighs his choices; a calculation. It's not about him - it's about the protomolecule's motivations, by whatever definition of 'motivation' might apply. The content of those motivations then in turn inform him of whether doing what it says will have dire consequences or if those dire consequences are what will come to pass if he refuses. And, 'knowingly' or not, it becomes a matter not so much of the real Miller's trust in Holden, but about Holden's trust in Miller.

That trust comes into play in Season 4, when he helps Proto-Miller out by fixing the planet's machinery, to put it one way. Proto-Miller already told him how to stop the Ring Station from destroying all those inside, and the rest of humanity along with it. It's not like when he trusted the info that got them in the Ring safely - that was about hinging their lives on Proto-Miller's need for a 'ride'. Negotiates for their safety with it. But how to save humanity from destruction? The protomolecule would have no interest in that: as he says, it's like paving over an anthill. Humans mean nothing to that force. Malevolence or benevolence are a non-factor. But Proto-Miller acted with benevolence by giving him the information he needed to understand how they could all survive, how to show they weren't a threat. Holden doesn't have to trust the protomolecule's non-motivations...he only has to trust the rememnants of Miller he came to see while inside the station as the apparition spoke about his moments with Proto-Julie on Eros; his feelings about death, which meant he *had* feelings. Compassion, fear, regret.

It puts the question of 'why me' in the backseat. Holden doesn't need to know anymore. He had the real question behind 'why me' answered: got the information he was really concerned with (or at least he believed he did). This is demonstrated when the question expands from 'why me' to 'why us': Holden wonders and asks multiple times if humanity as a whole has been chosen for some unknown purpose, if there's something about them that made the protomolecule open up the universe to them or if their humanity is simply incidental, along with their existence. If they're just tools, then what kind of tool? Does the protomolecule, and possibly the builders who made it, need something from them, and if so, what is it?

The thrust of the question hasn't changed. Holden wants to know if humanity's actions - their choices, their behavior, even their mere presence - will have dire consequences, or if *not* continuing to use the Rings will. This is a Holden who will ask 'why me' only up until the time to act comes: why or how he ended up in the position to do something stops mattering - all that matters is the fact of him being in that position and then actually doing it. The reasons aren't important unless they affect the outcome.

I'm not trying to suggest that Show-Holden is some perfectly altuistic person, selfless to the point caring nothing for what happens to him and only what happenes to others, but he does prioritize it. He alters his behavior not only to prevent death and institutionalized harm but to be kinder to people he loves. When he's made to realize in Season 6 that his apparent disregard for his own safety hurts the people who love him, he promises to do better, then does. He priotizes the people he loves not because they have some greater purpose but because they're important to *him*. He cares about his home and his family and sees preserving those things as important for their own sake, and for himself. His needs, including emotional, do come into play. As they should.

He still fucks up, still gets things wrong, still has all the flaws he has, but that's good, because it makes his character feel like a real person and not just a symbol - some idealized version of a hero that either turns the character two dimensional or elevates them beyond realistic expectations. The show and novels both examine what it means to be human; the things we value, the ways we behave, how our emotions manifest in actions - our flaws, our limits, our strengths, our potential. Having your main hero escape all that somehow would run counter to the story's messaging, whatever its format or version.

As for Novel-Holden's motives behind that question, I'd say that's yet to he revealed, but I'll probably write another long rambling post about it when it is

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || KIND HEARTED

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar error, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1339

| published : 14 november

| request : could i request an imagine w/ sukuna where itadori’s best friend is just so welcoming of sukuna and tries to include him when they do things? like they’re just hanging out and she goes “sukuna would you like to try this” and she holds up a piece of food to his cheek so sukuna can try it and it just warms the curse’s cold dead heart bc she’s genuinely trying <3

| barista’s notes : i kinda went a little off track with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and that you have an amazing day! please come back again soon ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ

“You know, I think curses spirits have emotions”

“Mother, what in the world are you talking about? They don’t have feelings, they kill without remorse and try to gain power from their greed”

“Y/N dear, how are curses formed?”

“Negative emotions that results in cursed energy leaking from the bodies of humans”

“See ‘emotions’ is in the sentence dear”

“‘Humans’ mother, you forgot the word ‘humans’ was also in the sentence”

Back then you had no idea what your mother was suggesting or saying at that time. Curses having emotions? What was that all about? You knew from previous missions that some curses were intelligent from being able to take hostages to some being able to talk but other than that you still couldn’t comprehend what she was trying to communicate to you.

“You know the Legend of Sukuna?”

Looking up from your book, you stared at your mother - who was sitting on the opposite end of the room with a cup of tea in her hands - with a somewhat nonchalant but surprised expression on your face wondering why she brought up such a topic that was feared by most jujutsu sorcerers

“You used to tell me about it when I was younger, why are you bringing it up now?” you asked curiously, as you closed your book before gently placing it on your lap.

“We all know that the curse was a human before his fingers became cursed objects, don’t we? How do you think he felt when he was killed?”

You were about to answer her before you shut your mouth completely, not sure on how to even answer that question. How could you? No one knows the whole story to even come to a conclusion for that question, you have to interrupt the story in your own way to make one yourself? Wouldn’t he have been enraged when he was killed, annoyed at the fact that he lost in a way? Or was he unsettled? 

“Personally from my perspective, I think he would have been vexed at the fact that he somewhat lost, you mother?”

“I think the same as you, but I have a small feeling that he was upset for some reason, I’m not sure why though”

                                              ꕥ

You still have that assumption till this day. However, you were a little more open about your mother’s thoughts and took them into account sometimes when you were debating on the subject on your own. However, there was a slight shift in your opinion once Itadori Yuji unexpectedly came into your life.

The first time you meant the boy was when Gojo came back with him carrying him and Fushiguro back to Jujutsu high, confusing you completely on what was going on. For someone who was sent to just retrieve a cursed object, Fushiguro looked completely beat up and that worried you completely on what he had encountered during his time away. However, Gojo just couldn’t read the room.

“Yo Y/N, what is my favourite student doing at a time like this? It’s quite late you know,” he greeted you with a smile, before plopping Fushiguro on the ground.

“Sensei, now’s not the time to play with me, what the hell is going on?” you muttered annoyingly before using reserve curse energy to heal some of Fushiguro’s wounds.

After some time of your playful teacher explaining what was going on, you came to the conclusion that the boy ate the cursed object that Fushiguro was supposed to collect causing him to become Sukuna’s vessel as a consequence.

“So what you’re saying is that Fushiguro failed to get the object in the end,” you commented as you pointed at your close friend, leading to Gojo giving you an ‘okay’ sign telling you that you were technically correct.

“Was that all you got from the whole explanation Y/N?” Fushiguro irritatedly asked, causing you to lightly giggle before apologising to him.

                                              ꕥ

However, after that night, you made the decision to become friends with the teenager as you didn’t want him to feel completely isolated on his situation right now - he did leave everything behind to come to Tokyo - and with everything that was going to happen to him, you wanted him to live a happy life with people surrounding him before his execution after he ate all 20 fingers. What you didn't realise was this friendship would lead to you guys to have a sister and brother type of bond.

You and Itadori did everything together from going on missions together with Nobara and Fushiguro to randomly going out to do some shopping or showing him around Tokyo. As time went on, you decided to fully take in your mother’s opinion. You slowly included Sukuna in some of the activities that both of you would be participating in - usually this would involve you asking for his opinion on something, even if he sometimes gave a rude response.

“Do you think Sukuna is a pork or beef type of guy?” you randomly asked, as you lifted up your chopsticks that held a piece of cooked beef to Itadori’s cheek. “Sukuna, would you like to try this?” you kindly asked, leading to the curse to take a bite of the meat before his mouth disappeared like it didn’t appear in the first place.

“I never really asked, but why are you so kind to Sukuna? I mean he is a curse, after all, ain't sorcerers like you supposed to like, hate them?” Itadori asked in a confused tone, causing you to look up away from the meat that you were cooking to the boy that had asked you that question. 

To be honest, you weren’t so sure how to answer his question, just like the same situation that you were years ago when your mother asked you that question. How could you answer this time around? How could you answer this question now?

“Personally from my perspective, I guess I took in some consideration towards anyone’s emotions,” you casually answered, before going back to the meat that was cooking on the grill, leaving Itadori confused yet somewhat understanding what you were trying to say.

                                             ꕥ

Sukuna on the other hand was confused about what you were trying to interrupt to his annoying vessel as he sat quietly in his Innate Domain. Ever since the beginning of your friendship with Itadori, you had been nothing but kind-hearted toward him making him wonder what your intentions were from the start. However, over time he began to discover that’s what you were naturally. You were naturally just a kind-hearted person that was trying to become acquainted with him. You were generally trying.

It was hard to recall the last time he had someone to confide in - if there was anyone he even confided in at all - you were someone that took his emotions into consideration, you always question his reason for power, greed and destruction, instead of assuming that he was born with his sadistic nature. He still remembers that time you were able to somehow get close to him during his fight with Fushiguro and heal Itadori’s heart with no issues at all - making him intrigued on how powerful your reserve energy was. However, he remembers what you said to him as your hand was placed on top of the wound on his chest.

“Listen, I have no idea what caused you to become the man that you are today, I have no idea what pain you went through before your death 1000 years ago, I have no idea what you are feeling right now and I’ll try my best to understand” you quickly stated just as your curse began to revive his heart, “but right now, there is no way in hell am I going to let you kill Itadori, you got that Sukuna!”

That. That caused his cold empty heart to suddenly become warm.

Your kind-heartedness was the reason he began to reach out to you.

He wanted to cherish that trait of yours.

You were kind-hearted.

[celamoon]

saiki's crush who never pays attention to him because she thinks he's gay 😭 she's seen him stalking hiroshi saitou and just assumed he had a crush on the guy

IFBSKFK BUT LIKE THAT WOULD BE SO EASY TO MAKE A MISTAKE BC OF KSJHFDSF (like Saiki stalks Hiroshi so uh, surprise you think he's a flaming homosexual <3)

I'm lacing it with crack again I hope you don’t mind bby

Warnings: Laced with crack (check out my other works for reference LMAO), Swearing as usual

Pronouns: she/her

Summary: Saiki's gay for Hiroshi... right? Well, it's getting questionable with what you keep learning about him.

To you, Saiki Kusuo from the next class over was… in most situations most likely gay. Not the happy kind of gay, as in he was probably a flaming homosexual gay. You didn’t pay much attention but… you’ve caught him stalking Hiroshi in your class more than enough times. Another win for the gays you guessed. Saiki was in no way ugly.

This much thought of conclusion was reached after you saw him, and another purple haired boy in your class, stalk Hiroshi and Hii-chan while they were out on a date after school. Not to mention that he was literally telling Toritsuka about how he worshipped him. You also heard Toritsuka talk about ghosts at some point. You didn’t really care, they didn’t seem significant enough to you- wHICH WOULD’VE BEEN THE CASE IF YOU HADN’T WALKED IN ON AKECHI AND THE OTHER TWO TALKING ABOUT SAIKI BEING PSYCHIC.

“Do you two know that Saiki-san’s actually a psy-“ the two dragged him up the stairs and you had happened to pass.

“DON’T SAY THAT HE’S A PSYCHIC OUT LOUD YOU IDIOT-“

You dropped your milk carton and everyone turned to look at you.

“Shit.”

Your poor, poor miserable life…

So here you were, stuck with the four of them, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. (It was actually Oshimai but you didn’t really care)

“So… you’re telling me Saiki-san has to stop a volcano from erupting?” You never really understood all of it. You weren’t complaining though, you got to go on a fully paid trip thanks to Saiki.

“Yeah,” Aiura smiles.

‘Y/n, stay with Aiura, I’m going to try and solve this issue once and for all,’

You tucked yourself behind Aiura and thought over everything you two had done.

“He’s staring again?” You throw your carton away. “Is he gay for him or something?”

The other two stare at you in confusion. They try to make out words, and eventually they reach the same conclusion you did. “Holy shit he might be.”

“So what are we? A mean bisexual, a horny teen that harasses people, a detective, a psychic and the caffeinated parent?”

“Wait wait wait who’s the mean bisexual?”

“Aiura… unless somehow she’s straight,” You hum.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” Aiura shrugged.

You didn’t know, but Saiki heard that conversation.

The night before you three were here, Saiki had booked a hotel room for Aiura, you, and Toritsuka.

“I know there’s a reason that you called us three here, but isn’t it a violation of human rights to leave us here with him??” You point at Toritsuka and he scoffs.

“I did no such thing!”

“You told us to take a shower, and then you moved the two beds together.” Aiura deadpans.

‘Did Aiura explain everything to you two?’

“No, I was told that I was going on a trip.” You hum, taking a sip of water.

‘I’m going to attempt to stop a volcano eruption tomorrow,’ Saiki explains.

“I’M SORRY WHAT?” You spat out your drink from that one.

“The mountain here is going to erupt,” Aiura notes.

“What are we in? Hawaii???”

‘No but we’ll be dead if I don’t fix it,’

“Nice, so what’s the plan?”

There’s a bright light and then a blast, and you find that both you and Aiura are in one piece. Saiki’s breathing heavily on the ground, and you two rush over.

‘I can’t believe that worked,’ Saiki pants.

“Can I kiss you?” Aiura blinks. You choke on your spit.

‘No.’ Saiki glares. You reach a hand out to him to pull him up, but instead, you find yourself pulled on top of Saiki.

“AcK-“ You land with a thud and Saiki rests his face into your neck.

‘That was exhausting,’ He rests himself for a bit before the three of you hear people coming. You get up and pull Saiki up for real this time. The group blinks in confusion at the sight of two Saikis.

‘They’re not supposed to be here,’

“We know, we know,” The three of you glare at Toritsuka as he looks away. Toritsuka explains to Saiki what was going on and you snicker.

“We’ll explain it eventually. It’s a secret for now though,” You smile, holding a finger up to your mouth. “You trust us right?”

The group complains before Nendou speaks up.

“Well, they don’t have to tell us if they don’t want to… I think pal will tell us in his own time! A true friend wouldn’t pressure you into telling secrets… right?”

Your smile softens, and your eyes shine slightly. You watch Saiki speak for the first time.

“Good grief, you guys are really a pain… seriously…” Saiki’s eyes are glimmering.

You pause as Saiki disappears from next to you. Your memories remain but you don’t bring it up. When you all return to school, you find that Saiki’s limiters are gone.

“Saiki-san, did you get rid of the hair clips?” You tilt your head curiously.

“Yeah,”

“It feels weird seeing you as a normal human being,” you smile. “We’re aging so fast!”

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“I like you.” Saiki attempts to run away before you grab him by the wrist to pull him into you.

“You… DON’T GO AROUND CONFESSING TO PEOPLE AND RUNNING AWAY SAIKI-SAN!” You hiss, and Saiki’s eyes widen. “I… may have fallen for you too.”

“Oh thank god,” He hugs you and you hum.

“Didn’t you know? With the psychic powers and all?”

“No, you only thought about how I was gay for Hiroshi most of the time so I gave up on your thoughts,” Saiki mumbles.

“Ah, well that would make you gay as in happy now.”

“I hate you,”

“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,”

[neko-rogers]

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship, 

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

     A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

     “It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

     You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

     Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

     But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is. 

     Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

     “Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

     In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike. 

     The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

     You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

     Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day. 

     To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

     And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

     “Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

     In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

     “It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

     “Oh okay, sure.”

     “Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

     “I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

     As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

     “I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

     Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

     You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

     You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

     “What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

     Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

     “I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

     Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

      He does not argue with you any further.

     “Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs. 

     At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

     “Okay.”

     He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

     “Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

     Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

     Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

     God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

     “Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

     As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

     “It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

     “Are you sure? I–”

     And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.” 

     “Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

     One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

     “Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

     “Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

     There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same. 

     “It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

     “I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

     Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

     “Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.” 

     In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     “I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face. 

     “Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

     “I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

     It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you. 

     “Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

     You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

     “Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

     “And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

     “Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

      Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

     “I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

     “Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

     “I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

     His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

     The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

     With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

     “Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

     Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

     It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

     You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

     You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

     Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

     He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

     The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

     “Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.” 

     As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

     Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

     As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

     When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

     At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

     The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

     You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

     This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

     Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow. 

     And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

     From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

     It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

     Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

      Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

     Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

     In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

     “Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

     “Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

     You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

     “Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

     Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

     You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

     Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

     “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

     Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

     After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

     “Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

     “Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

     “Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

     You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

     “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

     Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

     “Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

     Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

     “I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

     “Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

     “Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

     “Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

     “Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

     “Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

     “Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

     “It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

     “Uhm.” You were doubtful of him. 

     However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

     “Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

     “Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

     “I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

     Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

     “Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

     An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

     Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

     If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

     True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

     At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

     In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

     “Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

     “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

     As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

     For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

     Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

     You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

     “Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

     “No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

     He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

     Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

     He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

     “I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones. 

     You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

     “Was is it?”

     “I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

     It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

     “Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

     Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

     “Peter, I–”

     “Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

     What. The. Fuck.

     “No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

     The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

     Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

     Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

     Lastly, you turned around and ran.

     You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

     Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

     Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

     When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

     You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

     “Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

     You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void. 

     From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

     Hell please let this be a nightmare.

     “What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

     Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

     Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

     “Uhh.”

     That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

     When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

     As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

     Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

     On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

     “Fuck,” you grumble.

     “That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

     “Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess. 

     “If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

     Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

     Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

     Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

     You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

     “Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”      “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

     Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

     “Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

     “We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

     No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

     “Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

     “I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

     You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

     Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

     “What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face. 

     “P-please let me go.”

     “I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate. 

     Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

     “Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

     As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

     He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

     “I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

     Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

     “I can’t.”

     “Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

     “I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

     You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

     “You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words. 

     “Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

     It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

     “Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper. 

     Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

     “I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

     “No–”

     He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

     “You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

     Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

     Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

     You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

     His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

     “Sorry, babe.”

     He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your  skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

     Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

     “Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

     Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

     Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

     You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

     “You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

     Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

     Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

     “Oh,” you moan.

     He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

     “I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

     Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

     You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

     “You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

     The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

     But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

     As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

     He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

     There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

     The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

     “Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

     “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

     Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

     Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

     “We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

     He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

     You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

     Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

     As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

     The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

     Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

     And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

     You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

     The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

     “I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

[locktobre]

I sometimes feel like Elsa stans don't understand how significant the ending of Frozen II is for her character. I mean, she's finally happy and truly, ACTUALLY free for the first time. Why do they think it's a bad thing?

GIRL I wish I knew!! My recent post has gained some traction which is interesting, and no one's tried to fight me about it yet, so maybe some ppl are starting to see the light. I still do see nonsense on a pretty regular basis tho, so it's clearly not everyone.

I still maintain that the backlash to F2 has less to do with it being bad and more to do with it shattering the way ppl thought about the sisters (not just Elsa) for the 6 years between. I mean, F2 is not a perfect movie, there were some Choices made... but in terms of being a trainwreck, it's not any worse than F1. (I'd say F1 is worse actually, bc of the 70+ years of baggage that led up to it... and then it was rushed out the door at the last second to capitalize on the success of Tangled. But I digress.) The ending finally forced ppl to confront the characters they thought they knew... and when they were wrong (so very wrong), they rejected it. They called it OOC, which, it isn't. If it was OOC then I would not have been able to come to the same conclusion years before. Not that my analysis is more valid than anyone else's... except, I was right. I was right after everyone told me I was so wrong and I wasn't looking at it right and I didn't relate to the right character, etc etc etc for years, but I was right. I know I keep saying it and I keep being annoying about it, but F2 was SO validating in that way. I was told for so long that I was just a hater but I mean, just bc I'm a hater doesn't mean I'm wrong.

And I actually don't hate Elsa, at the end of the day. She's an interesting character if you don't ignore all of her characterization so you can project onto her. She's been trapped pretty much her entire life, either physically in the castle, or by what ppl think of her. Another post I made (pre F2 release, when just the ending had leaked) talks more about this, but really, she has never been free. She has never found anyone else like herself, anyone else with magic or who even understands magic, unless you count the trolls or her parents, which I emphatically do not. (Iduna, maybe, given the F2 revelation, but she’s on thin ice considering she, too, repressed Elsa’s magic. Even if Agnarr led the whole thing, she was complicit. So fuck her, too, really.) The only time she ever did do what she wanted (Let It Go)... she was forced to go back. She wanted to escape Arendelle, she wanted it so badly, FROM THE FIRST MOVIE, not even accounting for FF and OFA and books/comics showing that everything is not quite peachy (even if she doesn’t try to leave again). Girl she has been smothered her whole life, and when she got to the Enchanted Forest she could finally breathe, even BEFORE she got to Ahtohallan proper. It is not just a symbolic role reversal to have Elsa be the impulsive one when they reach the Forest, while Anna hangs back. It is because Elsa already feels more at home there than she does in Arendelle, she feels untouchable and away from prying eyes for the first time in her LIFE, and ppl want to take that away from her? Girl why do y’all hate her so much!!! If I’m the hater, why am I the one rooting for her happiness? Make it make sense!

[spaceshipkat]

Are you completely devastated with fact that acotar got a show? I just don’t think that Janet’s writing should reach different type of audiences. Her writing, to me, promotes misogynistic ideals, staying within tonic circles, sexualizing anorexia, etc. I just don’t understand why people are so happy about this. Did you guys read the same books as I did? Do you think her books deserves this type of platform?

do i think her books deserve the kind of platform they’re going to get? absolutely not. a good starting point for how i feel about her books are my posts while i live read ac0sf or even my review of the book. 

am i devastated that it’s getting a show? i think devastated is too strong a word. i’m not at all surprised this happened (i’ve been theorizing about another film rights deal ever since she signed with her new agent, especially bc of all the attention shows like Shadow & Bone and The Witcher are getting), however shit the clause is about how the show absolutely must be greenlit or there’s going to be a serious penalty, but i’m deeply, deeply disappointed and annoyed. every time sj///m releases a book, i hope that someone with actual clout (more than us antis) will finally make noise about what dangerous messages she’s putting in her books, the sheer amount of racism and sexism and abuse apologism and so on and so forth. just look at what happened to Leigh Bardugo before Ninth House even published. if someone as massive as Leigh (who is, admittedly, bigger than sj///m, which i’m sure grinds sj///m’s gears) can have the content of her books challenged when she openly speaks about what she writes, how on earth can someone like sj///m, who hides what she writes behind prewritten statements at events and tours, just skate on by? 

i didn’t used to be an anti with any purpose more than making the abundant problems in her books clear for future readers. but somewhere along the line, and without my intention, i started to hope our posts would get noticed by someone with enough power to fucking do something about it. soap dick was a disaster, imo, and served absolutely no purpose but allowing some authors to make an “explicit sex shouldn’t be in YA” tweet and call it good enough without even fucking naming names, when soap dick began directly because of sj///m. i think soap dick was detrimental bc it made people feel like they had done enough with regard to sj///m’s books. i don’t care that they’re being published in Adult rn. the shit she writes is romanticized, and that’s a problem that can’t stand no matter what fucking category you write in. 

but given that shift in my attention toward sj///m’s books, given my shift toward trying to make enough noise to get noticed when i didn’t want to ever shift that way, i’ve found that i’ve lost a lot of energy to dedicate to watching sj///m’s career in general. giving her as much attention as i’ve been doing since 2017 (my first anti post is April 2017; i’m one of the longest-standing active antis) is draining bc nothing i do ever feels like enough, so i’m always disappointed in myself, and that is incredibly damaging when coupled with everything i have going on irl. so in other words, i won’t allow myself to feel anything but a steady level of annoyance at sj///m and everyone who enables her depraved books, but i can’t allow her to make me feel anything else bc then i have nothing left for myself, and i’m tired of it. i’m just so tired. in conclusion, this is a really long ramble to say that, no, i’m not devastated bc i refuse to give sj///m that power over me anymore. i’ll still talk about the content in her books, still welcome anti asks, but i need to remove myself from the belly of the problem for my own sanity. 

plus, i believe she deserves to vanish into obscurity, just a stain on the fantasy genre that, for some reason, was never washed out. 

[icharchivist]

ok i’m out of my liveblog tag now so lmao, highlights! sorry for the small gbf spam before it’s time for it

but yeah so i feel strongly for the Lamorak’s storyline. Like i go more in depth there about why i really love the Wales brothers storyline for personal reasons (......... which ironically if you follow me for a3, is the same reason i love Gekka so much)

but one of the thing that blew my mind with it is that like, I love doing theories and meta right? but the fandoms that get me the most worked up for that are.... generally frozen? like if we don’t count characters studies like i do for a3, i’m talking, actual theories like i do for dgm, or, hxh, which are all saga i made extensive Meta for, are all stuck in hiatus and we have little advancement on the stuff i can meta about. There’s DA that’s a bit different because there was at least one book that made my brain goes brrr and all but aside from that, i rarely get new content for the sagas i theorize about and so i get used to it, and i even less get direct answers that proves or disproves my theories.

but the fact gbf is always getting out some content meant that ultimately i had to face my expectations and metas in the eyes

.... and the Lamorak’s storyline was basically telling me “hey you were right to expect me and also you were right about everything bestie” 

and like. The absolute VALIDATION of it all???

For the year i was into gbf about i was talking all the time about Lamorak to whoever would hear me. A character we only had seen in flashbacks at this point, before and during the incident that caused the major trauma both of his brothers went through and had to overcome as adult. And for a year, i would talk about everything we know about this kid, how he was before his mother’s death and how he would have coped with it, and how he would realistically appear again in the plot again.

i also remember theorizing something totally unrelated, knowing that Gawain was linked to the Wales storyline because he “blackmailed his influence into it” and back then i theorized that it could be something linked to Lamorak and “wouldn’t it be wild if Gawain and Lamorak knew each other actually” and it was totally a crack theory that was having very little foundation for it.

And then Lamorak was namedropped into the newest Percival FE and i kept thinking “okay next event Lamorak will happen. he’ll be there. I know it.”

......... and turns out. I was right. I was trying so hard to manage my expectation but here he was introducing himself in the Gawain centric event (at the time the Gawain involvement in the Dragon Knight saga was a secret kept in his 5* FE!! it was his first time into the Dragon Knights event!!), while also dropping in that indeed him and Gawain knew each other. And all of that while filling a fate i did expect of him and theorize about.

It was like. so wild to me. More than just seeing Lamorak again which i had wanted for a lONG TIME, it was that the way i interpreted and read Lamorak made so much sense that it was the plan. That ended up being the plan.

even for stuff like DA where i still get content to examine, i don’t have answers yet, just more clues and more questions.

but GBF told me “hey you were right about those things”

And it’s so validating??? to think that all of my overreading, all of my theorizing, all this time i spent rambling on and on.... was because i caught the right clues, or, if they hadn’t planned this far, that i understood the character enough to be able to reach the same conclusions as the writers when it came to deciding how he will join the story.

Like i always think i read too far into it, that i’m getting my expectations high, that i’m wrong and i’ll be disappointed. and since i am not in sagas that get answers, i am constantly pushing down my expectations. (which is also why a3 is soothing bc characters analysis don’t come with the crushing expectation of theories lmao).  So Being told that actually this is exactly how it was meant to be? for once i have an answer to my overthinking and it rewarded me for it. Unparalleled.

So yeah the high from the Savior of Dalmore event is unmatched. I will never forget it. Also the fact i managed to go in totally unspoiled and not knowing Lamorak was in it.

So that’s basically “10 times i overanalysed pieces of media (and One Time they told me i was right)” the event story. Forever vindicated.

[kannra21]

This time I watched Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited for real, meaning that all this knowledge I gained about that series from the previous time was just facts coming from different posts on Tumblr. And I got to know a lot about it thanks to you. You guys were a big help in figuring out some of the series' most important aspects, I appreciate your input on it.

Now that I’ve watched both episodes. I’m going to comment on some things I haven’t seen people talking much about, I’ll try giving it some highlight so I hope you enjoy.

1) The millionaire detective *or smtng more than that*-

Many expect the main character of the series to present himself in a way that he says his name and what he does for life, to give us an insight into who he is and to give us a better idea of what to expect of the series. But instead, the first episode opens with "I had a father and I had a mother", the series opens with a tragic story and tells us about the rich person's unfortunate life. Why's that? It's very important for Daisuke's character. Because, as we go through the series, the author probably predicted that audience would start judging him according to the way he treats people and work, just like Kato always does. The author tries to warn us not to judge a book by its covers. That's why it is so important that the beginning of the series opens this way.

2) Daisuke's and Kato's teamwork-

Daisuke, being a highly classified detective, knows his rights and what he can and can not do, which he exploits a great deal. He can damage people's vehicles and traffic control but he doesn't care, bc he's a detective and bc the law is on his side. He's using this same knowledge to reach his goal faster without wasting time on things that aren't that important, which means, morally or ethically important. Emotions like insecurity, guilt and regret aren't welcomed in this job. Sensitivity to other people's needs before yours are also irrelevant. Traumatizing a mother and a child from almost getting ran over isn't something that he'd preoccupy his mind with too much. He cares about the sufficiency of the mission and working in the favor of the government, as Ryo himself said.

Kato, on the other hand, is different. People come to him in the first place and the most important thing for him is to bring them peace and security, things that all police officers should actually have in mind. He is everything that Daisuke is not.

And when he told him "You're making quite the show here. How are you going to take responsibility for this?", we can notice that something clicked in Daisuke, that he told himself "ugh I went too far I should do something about it". And then he called HEUSC and told him to send reimbursements for DOUBLE the damage costs he caused for certain people. He also gave the Abura Emirate's seventh prince a billion yen when the car didn't even cost that much. So it’s evident that Daisuke does possess feelings like guilt, he just needs to be reminded of it.

The same goes for that scene when he tried to drop the vehicle into the river, Kato reached for the girl and told her to jump out. Daisuke doesn't care if she's a kid or if she's going to explode together with the van. It is important to him to save the rest + the kids are also considered criminals, he will take it upon himself to judge them as they actually deserved it. Kato, unlike him, can't let himself do that, he just can't. That's why he saved her and let her be with Hiroshi again. I love Kato for that.

Maybe Daisuke is a sufficient detective but Kato is there to remind him that the things he's doing aren't ok. He's giving him a sense of morality and ethics and that's why I think they're put together bc they make a great team. And they truly do, the problem is, Kato can't stand him. 😅

3) This funny moment-

I love how Kamei in the second episode found out ab the tragic death of some woman by going through one of his inappropriate sites and he's like: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

Kato *annoyed bc he's as well judging him for his perverted ways and lack of devotion towards work*: "Shut up Kamei."

Kamei *big sad*: "It says she died from a drug overdose. That centerfold model Akiko Hoshida..."

Kato: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA??!! SERIOUSLY?"

Which leads me to the conclusion that:

Kato isn't that much different from Kamei.

Kato prefers only a specific type of women while Kamei drolls over every woman who looks even remotely pretty.

Kato has a type because the deceased centerfold model Akiko Hoshida and Suzue look very alike. Kato is also into "innocent" women bc he himself is innocent, as Akira stated. + He knows how to cook, refuses to drink alcoholic beverages during work hours and is actually pretty soft. Kato is more lovable than Daisuke in those aspects.

4) Kato's cluelessness-

Because of being so innocent, Kato doesn't have the ability to criticize others or judge "the way they breathe". He's too good, too considerate, too emphatic. That's why Daisuke's here to break his pretty picture of the world they're living in.

Kato was so easily deceived by the street performers and it was actually funny. Why would they do it otherwise than for money? No one wants to make an idiot out of themselves without a certain price.

He also thought of Suzue as one of them, the drug dealers I mean, acting as liaison. And it made me laugh so much bc he didn't know what's going to hit him. 😂

5) HEUSC-

I love HEUSC so much, this technology stuff is so lit, I wish I had it. It can detect lies, analize time, deduce certain information just from the help of a person's credit card, how much income they have, how much they lost over a couple of days, when and where, what were they buying. It can detect a person, personal information ab where they're from, age and date of birth. It also shows the person's heart rate. It can even work as a magnifier and control the traffic lights, isn't it crazy??

Daisuke's heart rate is always 60 during the whole interrogation. He's so freaking calm.

You also need to understand that Daisuke's session lasted longer than Cho-san's who used weak points such as family members and sense of right and wrong. Daisuke needed some time until their negotiation was done, he gave money to a drug addict in exchange for an information while Cho-san didn't lose anything, he could as well just deceive his suspect and get away with it.

Take into account that Daisuke went through a special training in England so his protocols are different from the normal Japanese ones.

6) Daisuke's jealousy-

Lmao Daisuke is stealing friends. He invited Akira to his own ramen during their Isezaki case.

He said "I can risk my life for Kato" and omg let me tell you, Daisuke became jealous so he made a move and even paid him to get into a costume to lure Kato and the rest of the hooligans to the top.

7) The elevator scene-

Kato standing in the middle of the elevator and Daisuke standing close to the corner as pinned as possible is what made my day. 😂

8) On the rooftop-

Daisuke's heart rate is 72 when shooting from a bazooka in the helicopter. Still too calm but I'd say that he's in a good physical condition considering that he's into boxing.

BTW he accidentally shoot towards Kato bc his target wasn't detected, it only wrote "primary target", he didn't do it on purpose.

But the sole thought of "stank needs to be eliminated" gets me every time. 😂

9) Daisuke joining the MCI-

Daisuke circled around the topic and refused to give the answer about why he decided to become a detective by redirecting the conversation towards Kato.

Let me tell you something, I watched too many crime series to know why he did that.

The reason is very personal.

And at the beginning of the whole anime he introduced himself to us with “I had a father and I had a mother”. I think he's trying to find the culprit for his parent's murder.

10) His lack of sleep-

Although he has lots of money, people like Daisuke tend to afford themselves a nice and cozy sleep. Despite that, Daisuke has as much under eyes as Kato. Which makes me wonder what keeps him awake at night, what's he thinking ab. Is he traumatized in a way? I can't wait for the next episodes to arrive!

Btw while watching the anime I fell in love with Kato even more, such a great character.

[alri-xo]

Ship of Dreams (Titanic 1997 AU) | Chapter 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Hello everrrrybodyyyy so after about twelve hours, chapter 1 is here 🎉 and like... Yeah... I hope you enjoy reading this part bc it's gonna be pretty long. (Italics are short flash backs). Made a few tweaks in how the scenes flow but still, it gets there. Don't worry bout it. And I added links below for you to easily navigate between the current parts of the story, and I'll be doing that for all the other chapters for easier access. Channelling this Bucky (thanks babe @witchymegg ) and post serum Steve in this fic, but in whatever Jack and Fabrizio wore.

Pairing: Alexander Pierce x Reader

Warnings: Age gap?, rich people being rich people, social discrimination, gambling. Swearing... I am on the app so this has no page break

The whirring of the large helicopter was heard through out a far radius, Y/N and Meg seated inside and Diamond on the old woman's lap.

As one of the submarines were being swung over to begin another mission, Jared and Baron walked over, talking. Baron was rather aggressive in his perspective on meeting lil old lady Y/N, calling her an old liar. Saying that her claims that she is Y/F/N is false as she 'died' in the Titanic.

However, Jared was too set in finding the precious jewel to listen to Baron's claims. He'd care less of his friend now that he finally has a walking diary willing to tell the tale.

Jared's Point of View

"She's dead, McKinley... Look it up. She might be another person for vanity... She's an old goddamn liar..." Baron says harshly as the loud propellers of the heli fill the ears of everyone on deck.

"Y'know what, do something you fancy right now, Martins... This is what I fancy, and if you don't want in, go some place else..." I say sternly as I walked over to help the old nutshell out the Sea Stallion.

Claiming that she's dead is rather harsh, now that she's here. In a wheelchair, frail, basically looking like time wasn't too good to her, no... She's no fine wine.

But she is definitely a fine piece of the puzzle, for my reputation and for this shipwreck. Thousands of dollars will go to nothing and will prove Baron right.

I'm his boss. I should be right...

Right?

"Good day, Mrs. Treville... Welcome to the Dal'nomer... I'm Jared McKinley..." I greeted as she was carried down the heli in her wheel chair, a young woman following her as she descended from the small door.

"Hello, Mr. McKinley... This is my granddaughter, Meg..." She greets me as Meg reaches out to shake my hand for a brief moment, following her grandmother soon after, a fish bowl with a few small fishes inside being handed to me.

Who the hell brings their entire house in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?

💎

"How's the stateroom, Mrs. Treville?"

"Lovely, Mr. McKinley... Very lovely..." she says happily as she looked around the room, "Have you met my granddaughter, Meg? She takes care of me..."

"Yes, we met a moment ago, grandma..." She smiles as I caught Baron roll his eyes and chuckle... I looked at him, making him stop.

"Oh yes..." she says remembering me meeting her granddaughter. A short pause filled the air for a moment, as I looked at the mass of picture frames on top of the bedside table.

I mean, it's pretty inconvenient and her actions are pretty different than any old lady I ever met.

"That's nice... I like to bring my pictures with me... And Diamond of course..." she says pertaining to her white Pomeranian, seated on the foot of ther bed.

Old ladies... Quite peculiar specimens.

But that's not the thing I'm after. I'm after that big juicy jewel, and the story behind it. The safe combination, how did Pierce grab hold of it, of such a controversial piece of pressurized carbon.

"Anything else you need?"

"I would like to see my drawing."

💎

Reader's Point of View

We entered the lab. The white paint prominent all around. Technicians in their white garments as they fiddled with the tech around them, like children playing with their dolls.

They lead me to a place in the lab, a rectangular dish on top of the cold, busy table. A drawing of a woman submerged in the clear water.

"Lay there... Just like that for me..." his steel blue eyes focused as he directed my form, bare flesh but a large gem on my chest, dark as the rim around his irises.

His large hands held his pad of paper as he sketched in dark grey strokes.

His dark brown locks loose on his face as he glanced at me.

His muse.

It puts a smile on my face, as I remember how I was too innocent and certain to love someone for the grade of good, not knowing any better.

Jared nears to me, holding a black and white picture in his hands, the 'Heart of the Ocean.'

"Louis the Sixteenth, wore a fabulous stone called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, it disappeared in 1792. About the same time Louis lost everything from the neck up..." Jared said as he sat beside me, showing me the picture... I just listened to him and the gem's origins.

I always knew it cost a fortune, but now I just realized a thing that I felt back then... A diamond fit for royalty on a girl like me, marrying for what good reason?

It's a gorgeous piece, truly. However, by what Jared is saying, it is one for that of the Olympic Dieties.

"... Today, it would be more expensive than a Hope Diamond," his friend Baron nodded, agreeing that such is worth a fortune.

All I could think was I was both lucky but undeserving of having to wear it. A thing worth more than my whole existence is wanted by these people for whatever reason. I wouldn't want to jump into conclusions.

"Oh, I remember how heavy this was..." I said touching the picture of the necklace and looking ay the drawing, "I only wore it this once..."

Meg looks at me reluctantly, raising an eyebrow, "Do you really believe that's you, Grandma?"

I smiled at her and chuckled, "Why yes, dear... I was quite the looker..."

Jared smiles as my granddaughter giggles behind me. All is well on my part.

However, I can sense that one of the men, Baron, is skeptical of me. I wouldn't want to think so paranoid but, a man like him looks at someone like me differently.

Jared goes on with his story, and I listen, any rational human should do the same, "We tracked in down through insurance records but it was deemed confidential... Do you know who the claimant was, Y/N?"

"I believe it may be someone with Pierce..." I say in a lively tone. But that surname irks me.

Pierce...

"Ding ding ding! The father, New York personality, worked for the Navy as one of it's top asset and next part of his story, became one of the most known socialites of his time in the US. For his son, Alexander Pierce, heir of all that cash, splurged on the necklace during his trip to France..."

He paused a little, "For his fiancee, you... One week before the Titanic set sailed from England. Claim was made after the ship sank... Meaning, it went down with the ship."

Meg looked at the date, dictating it to Jared as he snapped his fingers.

"So if your grandma is who she says she is, it means that she wore the necklace when the Titanic sank..." Baron butted in like an omniscient being, but I don't really mind. What is there to mind anyway?

I can't force someone into believing who I say I am. I have gone through enough in my 100 years of existence and that's a thing I learned along the way, before I rode that ship. I couldn't force even my mother who I think I am... When she was alive of course.

Jared smiles at me like the Cheshire cat, eyes gleaming with anticipation, "And that makes you my new bestfriend."

💎

We went forth to another part of the lab. In front of me stood a table, antiques submerged in the Atlantic laid out in front of me.

It felt as if I was travelling through time, in my younger years. My glory days. The mirror looked in shape, though faded a little and cracked, it's still the mirror I once held.

"My reflection is a little different..." I smiled as I set it down. I took another antique from the table, a hair piece this time and inspected it. It still dawns its jewel toned colors, except it has faded through the test of time.

All these items still vivid in my memory. How new they were and the materials that made up every piece on this table, were so rare and priceless. It's extraordinary how they are still in mint condition, after such a long time.

The people connected to these items however, didn't stand the test of time very well. They come and go.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"

💎

Third Person Point of View

"Live from 12,000 feet," Baron begins with his lecture, a simulation of what happened to the Titanic, the video running the events that lead to the sunken disaster, now at rest in the Atlantic.

Jared thought she doesn't need to know this, but Y/N insisted. She said she was curious, despite her thoughts on this skeptic, Mr. Martins, it would be rude to decline. Men can share.

Y/N, seemed facinated with the tech around her, showing the bottom of the ocean but seemed interested at a certain part of the sunken ship, which made Jared pay attention to her expressions, to unlock memories that may lead him to a successful mission.

He simply can't let every bit of this pass. Not a damn chance.

Baron went on and on... making sounds along the visuals on screen...

"Morse code, DIT DIT DIT..."

"Sank on the bottom like junk, BOOOM..."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Baron says happily, smiling at her, ancient eyes stoic as it ended.

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Martins. Of course the experience of it was far less... Scientific..." she says, her voice frail, but willing to tell what it's like. Willing to be a primary source of information, a walking book... Diary rather.

"Will you share it with us?" Jared asks, preparing the tape recorder.

Y/N stands from her chair, looking around the monitors, the sad ruins of the ship below. Algae and sea garbage on its once metal hand rails and deck.

Reader's Point of View

I looked at the ruins of the ship from the monitors. Every part of it, every set of stairs, every surface of the ship, I see people, from all walks of life. The door, now rusted and covered in debris and underwater plants.

"Good day, Ms. Y/L/N..." a man says, who works in the Titanic opens the door for me, metal tinted in gold as its windows, the varnished wood engraved with expertly made carvings.

Futher past the door, the ivory staircase on full display. Passengers of first-class in their fine garments and black suits, up and down its grand halls.

It all flashes in my head, before my eyes. All the opulence, the lush life... And how lives clinged to the metal rails for dear life.

I felt my face get hot and my eyes burn as tears ran down my face, my mouth slightly agape as I covered it and gasp in air, as it drowning in my memories and in my emotions.

Meg's face paints to worry, as she takes my wheelchair, "I'm taking her to rest."

"NO!"

My voice strong and in authority. I called Mr. McKinley, and I am here to give it to him. Not for him to aid in my old age.

I sat down with the monitors behind me as the people in the room settled down, Jared holding a tape recorder in his hands.

"It's been 84 years-"

"Just tell us what you can... Anything at all..." Jared interrupts as I began to tell of my experience. Took aback, I thought to myself...

Does he really want me to say what I have to say or he just wants something else out of me?

"Do you want to hear it or not, Mr. McKinley?" I ask sternly, he falls quiet signalling me to continue.

"It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china has never been used. The sheets have never been slept in... Titanic was called, the 'Ship of Dreams,' and it was... It really was..."

Third Person Point of View

Everyone was smiling ear to ear, hugging each other as they boarded the large ship. People segregated, the first-class passengers need no such inspection, just by the looks of them.

Third-class however, needs to go through inspection. Health, appearance... Certain things were contagious back in the day.

In the sea of people, old fashioned automobiles honked loudly, the aristocrats. Easily distinguished as gold curls surrounded the edges of the vehicle's doors and windows, one after the other. It's contents may be people or their stack of belongings.

To these aristocrats and socialites, there is no in between when it comes to needs and wants. Every want is a need.

Reader's Point of View

So this is a ship, they say? It's but a big boat to me... Looks like any other ship. So much for taking me here when I could've lived my life on land like a normal girl.

I reached out my gloved hand to the chauffer, helping me off the vehicle. I looked through my wide brimmed hat, the Titanic in front of all the people bidding goodbye.

To these people, this is the grandest ship in their eyes and hearts. For me, who had a fair share of being on different ships, this just looks like a joke to me.

So much for bringing me here, Pierce.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about... It doesn't look bigger than the Mauretania..." I say to Alexander as he stepped down the vehicle.

"You can belittle all other things, Y/N but not the Titanic..." he pressed as if he himself already entered the ship, "It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania and far more luxurious... You're gonna love it..."

I walked forth a little to give space to my mother, Katherine, Karen for short. I call her that, but without her knowledge as she likes to make herself be heard and she wants it exactly how she wants it.

"Your daughter's far too hard to please, Katherine..." Alexander says as she helps her off the vehicle.

May I add, she's a feisty one.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable, huh?" She says looking at the ship, raising her thin eyebrow. Her hands tucked inside her hand warmers.

"Yes, it is unsinkable. God himself can't sink this ship." He beams as my mother looks at him impressed.

A small man approached Alexander, telling him that the luggage should go to the main entrance around the ship somewhere. He hands him a good tip, a more than good tip. His eyes grow large as Alexander tells him to look for Brock Rumlow, his right hand.

It's funny because his right hand man is nearer to my age than he is.

Choices.

We head off to the ship, my mother's arm linked to Alexander's, looking more like a couple than how we are meant to look the part as I walked passed the third-class passengers being inspected.

We walked on the ramp, the water under it and the people below us.

Upon entrance, Alexander made me link my arm with his. Thanks, mother for finally thinking that you set me up with this person and not you setting yourself up with him.

Although that last part sounds better to me. He's as old as someone like him should be.

It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship. Taking me to the the United States in chains.

Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming.

💎

Third Person Point of View

Forget the ship for now, the focus should be inside the pub. A pub full of people from the working class, drinking liquor, good enough that their money can afford, as cheap prostitutes flirted with the men for a quick buck for a bite to eat.

Four men, playing a serious game of poker. Every last bit of coin they had, were on the table. One takes a drink of his brown liquor as he speaks in Swedish.

"Du dumma, satsar du på våra biljetter! (You dumbass, you bet our tickets!)" He says to his companion who snaps his attention to him.

"Du förlorade alla våra pengar och jag försöker få tillbaka dem. Välj nu ett jävla kort! (You lost all our money and I'm trying to get them back. Now pick a damn card!)," One of them says gritting his teeth at his friend, who was playing all he got.

One of them puffs a cigarette, his grey blue eyes focused on his cards and the man across the table. Caring less of his brunette locks getting in the way of his vision.

"Hit me again, Ivan..." he asks as one of the Swedish men slip him a card and he takes it.

His blonde companion, begins to worry a little. Thinking they bet everything and are about to lose everything and stay in Southampton for another long time before they get lucky.

He notices, his voice in a low, raspy whisper, "Don't worry buddy, we've got nothing to lose..."

"We have nothing to lose because we literally have nothing, Bucky..." he says worried, as his friend bet everything they had, except for their clothes...

The ship horn toots its mighty note, alerting the gamblers, Bucky looks around, his competition sweating seeds off his forehead.

"Moment of truth..." he begins looking up at the four other men, anticipation and worry painted their faces, "Steve..."

The blonde lays out his deck, "Nothing..."

He continues, "Ludvig..."

The man lays out his deck, "Oh, squat..." he continues to the other one, "Ivan, two pair... Hmm... Sorry, Steve..."

Steve's face pales, he begins to sweat buckets... Fear rushing over him as he feels cold, palms sweaty.

"W-we lost? I won't be able to see ma another while... Darn it, Bucky..." he begins to stammer and curse... Thinking luck was not on his side...

"Sorry, Steve... You lost and I WON! FULL HOUSE, BUDDY!" Bucky cheers as Steve stands up happily hugging him, kissing the two tickets, "We're going home!"

Profanities streamed from the lips of the two other men who bet their tickets. The poker gods not on their side.

The taller man stood up, over 6 feet tall, maybe 6 foot 7, and grabbed Bucky by the collar. Bucky closed his eyes to take the impact of the large hand balled up in a fist. Instead, he punches his companion, knocked out like a light.

"We're going home, Steve!!"

"America, here we come!!"

Their celebration came to a halt, the pub owner cutting in looking at the two men.

"You're not going to America... Titanic is, in five minutes..." he says pointing to the clock, every second wasting away.

The two men exchanged looks and rushed out the pub, all their belongings they stuffed in their bags like sacks.

They ran in the crowd chasing time, as Steve cheered excitedly as they were coming home.

They ran and ran, cutting between the crowd of people and the honking automobiles. They skipped the line for inspection and went straight to the third-class passenger entrance, Bucky waving the tickets at the guard.

"Passed through inspection?" The guard asks, like he does for every passenger.

"Don't have lice, don't worry... We're both Americans..." He says flushed and panting, waiting to get on the ship to their quarters.

The guard was testy, but there was a sliver of trust shining through, "Alright, come aboard..."

They entered the ship, but it came to a halt. The guard passed the ticket on to another guard to inspect them, to see if they are not posers.

He begins saying the names, "Eklund and... Norberg..."

He says, raising a brow... he thought, 'these don't look like Eklunds and Norbergs...'

He hands them the tickets, granting them entrance to the RMS Titanic.

"Come on, Ivan!!" They ran in the corridor, whooping in victory...

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches alive!"

They quickly run up the metal stair case, excitedly throught the crowd of people finding their way in the ship. They busted out the door as they stood along the people on the poop deck.

"BYEEEE" Bucky yells out to the crowd, as if someone important to him is in the crowd.

Steve looks at him puzzled, "You hung out with some skank?" He asks, knowing that Bucky's a smooth wolf where ever he went.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling then looking at him in disbelief, "NO, Steve... It's a thing!!!"

Steve shrugged and started waving at the crowd as the ship moved away from the dock.

"Bye, everybodyyy!!! I may or may not forget youuuu!!" Steve yells to the crowd as the ship set sail to New York, back to their country and to their homes.

<- Previous | Next ->

A/N: CUUUUT so this is chapter 1 of Ship of dreams... You finally reached the bottom of this chapter... Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it 💕 keep saaafe

-Alri

Taggies 💕 (ASK ME IF YOU WANT IN)

@witchymegg @underworldqueen13 @amisutcliff @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit @vhsbarnes @uglipotata72829

[wildgeese2017]

You: what makes you happy?

Stranger: His smile

You: thats so nie

You: nice

Stranger: But I haven’t seen in in a while

You: :(

Stranger: What makes you happy?

You: i like lying down and feeling the earth cradling my whole physical body i like listening to music by myself

You: but i feel like its all sucks bc it never lasts

You: like his smile

You: i dont know how to make sense of it all

Stranger: I feel you

Stranger: Seems like nothing lasts

You: it scares me

Stranger: And you never know when the last time is going to be the last time

Stranger: You always think you will have more

Stranger: Until you don’t

You: i feel like an animal i feel so blind to what fate has planned for me

You: i want to believe in something to sort of see everything through the right lens but i just dont know whether i cud

You: like i dont know what gods means to me

You: what does it mean to you?

Stranger: I try to trust in him

Stranger: But the faith is being tested

Stranger: I feel like so much unfairness couldn’t come from god

You: i used to know so surely that the whole point of this suffering was that it was a test or an inevitabilty but i worry that my conclusion was false

You: im scared that my faith is just learned helpessness

You: do you have anything you wanted to say

You: like why you are on this platform

Stranger: I just hope you get enough motivation to hold on

Stranger: Even if it’s the bare minimum

You: thanks im fine i just feel so confused

Stranger: I am pretty sure that someday something will come that will make it worth it

You: im doing well im being nice to my loved ones im going to work im having fun im just existentially terrified

Stranger: For everyone

You: yeh i think so too

You: i kno u dont kno me but im rooting for you

Stranger: How old are you ? Sorry if that’s too personal

You: im 20

Stranger: I’m rooting for you too!!! 😄

You: thx

Stranger: The confusion starts at the twenty’s

Stranger: I’m 25 and haven’t figured it out

You: lol ive been confused 4 so long tho

You: i think being confused is the whole point

Stranger: Maybe the meaning of life isn’t to find it purpose

Stranger: But to live and live while it lasts

Stranger: Love*

You: like its all just fluctuations of energy and the universe is just reminding itself that it exists bc being is the point of being like a perfect circle of belief and truth

You: yes i think so too

You: but it leads me to chasing empty bliss

Stranger: You should write a book about it

Stranger: Or poems

You: i want to feel more purpose but i dont know how im scared of nit finding peace and my vulnerability being exploited

You: i write poetry but i feel as tho i havent developed craft

Stranger: You must be brave to feel extraordinary :)

You: how do u express urself?

You: :)

Stranger: I dance

You: <3

Stranger: I’m a dancer

You: thats so wonderful

Stranger: Not good with words

You: does it make you feel free? i can only dance with the lights off

Stranger: Sometimes I turn the music up and close my eyes and just dance whatever I feel inside

You: that sounds nice

You: what kind of music do u like?

Stranger: And most of the times it feels like breaking my own heart

You: :(

Stranger: But it flies itself back together right after

You: in a good or bad way?

Stranger: Glues*

You: sometimes i wish i cud crack open my heart and show people

Stranger: I feel like a slightly cracked heart must fall apart to be build up again

You: i always paraphrase kafka when he said the reason for everything he did is to try and express the unexpressable

Stranger: People tend to ignore small cracks

Stranger: But take it serious when it’s all in pieces

You: :( i wish we cud all b more gentle with each other

Stranger: Same

You: i wish i had more energy to see everyones breaking hearts and fill up the cracks with my own love

Stranger: And I wish we would only fall in love with people who fall for us back

You: are you in love with him?

Stranger: I am

You: i dont kno whether ive ever been in love love what is it like?

Stranger: I’ve been in love once before

Stranger: And I swore I’d never open myself up for anyone

Stranger: And my best friend convinced me to go on this date with this guy

Stranger: And when he kissed me I just knew

You: that must hav been terrifying

Stranger: Took me 5years tho

Stranger: To fall like this again

Stranger: It was

Stranger: In it’s ironic way

Stranger: And it still is

You: i can tget close to anyone like that bc ive got all this stuff i cant let anyone see its brave for you to let someone in even if it hurts

Stranger: You know what?

Stranger: It wasn’t a decision I made !!

You: huh i never thought of it that way

You: maybe it was god

Stranger: Im fact the decision I took was to not let him in before we went on that date

Stranger: It wasn’t something I was in control of

Stranger: And it took him 5 hours to kiss me 😄

Stranger: And when he did time stopped

Stranger: And so did my senses except for feeling

You: what makes him so special? is it just the way he makes you feel or is there a big reason in your mind?

Stranger: It’s …

Stranger: How can I say this

Stranger: He was a surprise

Stranger: I didn’t expect him to be that good

You: did you feel like you had met before?

Stranger: I thought he’d be just another mediocre guy

You: so he suprised you

Stranger: But when I saw his smile and eyes I just knew I was screwed

Stranger: Yeah

Stranger: Feel good to finally talk about all this haha

You: ive never felt that way about way about anyone it sounds so confusing

You: is he kind?

Stranger: He was

You: is he not anymore?

Stranger: Sadly no

You: :(

Stranger: He decided to take a step back from me

You: what did he do to make you feel this way (if you dont mind me askin)

You: oh

Stranger: I remember when he called me to tell me he’s not ready for a relationship

You: what are you going to do? i cant imagine never seeing anyone i care about like that again

Stranger: Last time I saw him was three weeks ago

Stranger: And last time I heard from him was one week bwfore

You: did you know him long before ?

Stranger: Three months

Stranger: Not that long

Stranger: But I knew what he would mean to me when I first saw him

Stranger: So it felt like a smaller eternity

You: that sound so difficult

Stranger: I miss him terribly:)

You: i cant imagine feeling that way it wud really scare me everyone i talk to ive known for like 8years i cant give so much of myself to someone new

Stranger: You don’t have to give yourself to someone all at once

Stranger: Be protective of your energy

Stranger: And never trust the other person to not hurt you!

Stranger: But trust yourself and how you will react to it

Stranger: Trust that’s you would be strong enough to handle it

You: do you think he saw the real you? its so weird to think that everyone percieves you differently and out of your own control i worry that i focus too much on an idea of a person that i cud be

Stranger: Yea and no

Stranger: What I showed him was the real me but I also know that I didn’t show him everything that I am

Stranger: I feel your fear ! You got to know who you are as a person first

Stranger: And you got to be authentic with the people around you

You: i think it takes so long to show a clear picture of urself and its always moving and running away from the person you were when you last talked to that person who you want to really see you

Stranger: Exactly!

Stranger: That’s probably the most genuine talk I ever had

You: im so tired of trying to be a person i wish i cud just melt into everyone around me but theres so much i dislike about those around me and its not possible anyway. its just hard knowing the reason for everything is human connection and not living in a way that respects that truth

Stranger: Thank you

You: thank you too

You: i really appreciate your sharing its so scar to be honest out loud

You: *scary

Stranger: True

Stranger: I guess being anonymous makes it easier

You: yeh i just i was going to see a friend today who i feel like understands me but i couldnt in the end and i needed to express a part of myself u kno even tho im talking to other people who know me and care its not the same

You: i hope ou feel better soon regardless of what he chooses for himself

Stranger: I know exactly what you mean

Stranger: After all I have to choose myself over him as well :)

Stranger: Sometimes love isn’t enough

Stranger: Who am I fooling… most of the times it’s not enough

You: i have so many kind lovely friends and family who is trying but i cant let go of this heavy thing its like theres always some invisible chain wrapped around me

You: yeh :(

You: why cant we all help each other more

Stranger: Not many people are spiritual enough to say love is enough and all that matters f*ck the rest

You: i know so many people in pain and im too tired to be there all the time

You: its easy for me to say love is enough when i dont hav so many real problems that cant b solved with love alone

Stranger: I really pray for you to break out of those chains

Stranger: You seem like an amazing loving and caring person

Stranger: You deserve happiness

You: thanks i dont kno whether my hope has any power to reach you but i really hope you get some relief from your pain too

You: you too

You: i think we all do but i cant know that im so lucky to not meet people who are cruel enough to take that belief away from me

Stranger: And if you ever do meet people like that do me the favor of removing them immediately

Stranger: If it costs you your peace it’s too exoenz

You: i guess but i always think what happens to them when im gone?

Stranger: Expensive *

You: where do they go?

Stranger: ALWAYS !

You: what do they feel?

Stranger: That’s none of your business

Stranger: Let them find their own way

You: yeh i think we all need to respect ourselves to let go of toxicity

Stranger: You don’t have to guide them

You: i just feel like i want to care more i want to love more but i dont and that makes me feel small and selfish i wish we cud all connect our love its so scary not being able to reach each other

You: im scared to change and become better it sounds so hard i feel so selfish

Stranger: You’re not selfish if it means protecting your energy

Stranger: But don’t stand in your own way

Stranger: Be brave

Stranger: Can’t stress that enough

You: thanks i think i do need to be braver i try and look more people in the eye but maybe i need to be brave against myself more than against other people

Stranger: Have you ever watched greys anatomy?

You: since they arent in my control

You: no but all my friends love it

You: its on my list loll

Stranger: So Meredith grey said something like :

Stranger: Maybe she wasn’t opening up to people not because she was scared of the love she would receive

Stranger: But scared of what would happen when they took this live away from her someday

Stranger: Once you get a taste of love

Stranger: It’s like a drug

Stranger: Love*

You: like you and him, i find it hard to accept it when people choose me over someone else so i push them away to other people and i get upset that they replaced me

You: love is so scary

You: its too much

Stranger: Me and him …

Stranger: I feel like this story is not over yet

Stranger: :)

Stranger: And that calms me

You: i think if you have so much love inside you, u will succeed and find yourself in a good place if you focus on that love

Stranger: Yeah

Stranger: I literally believe in love because of the way I know I am capable to love

You: sometimes i worry that im not capable of love like that like i have something inside me that puts people off even though on a surface level i seem nice and passionate or sweet or whatever

You: like i worry im just playing a part and soon ill get tired of acting and i wont be what people need anymore

Stranger: Don’t worry too much

Stranger: Just truly be yourself

You: thanks i will try too

You: its so weird loving life this much and still not being happy

Stranger: Damn

You: like im so happy but its never enough

You: its not the right kind of joy it wont fit

Stranger: And this whole convo started with this simple question

You: loll

Stranger: What makes you happy

Stranger: Lol

Stranger: You know what I just realized

You: wot :0

Stranger: My answer was wrong in so many ways

Stranger: Your happiness shouldn’t be depending on someone else

Stranger: Cause you can’t control other peoples behavior

You: thats so real

You: its so scary tho since you cant b alone but you cant rely purely on others

Stranger: Your happiness should only be in your hands

Stranger: So controversial

Stranger: It’s a daily risk lol

You: like other people are all that matters but to them you are the other people so we all need to be kind to ourselves to be kind to each toher but we're all to hurt and scared to do all of it in the right way

You: we're all walking around with a piece of the happy puzzle and we have'nt figured out how to put it together

Stranger: sometimes we forget that all people are vulnerable and maybe hurting too

Stranger: When someone hurts your feelings you tend to forget you might have hurt theirs too

You: i always remember but i dont always respect it and that makes me dislike the kind of person i let myself be

Stranger: You will learn to

You: i hope so

You: i think thats the point

Stranger: Don’t pressure yourself

You: like we live and we all learn the same lesson

You: but it seems like its always repeating

You: like why haven't we learned it yet

You: like we're all one soul

You: and we can't reach the end of this problem or is the point how good we feel at points of it? i cant just chase joy if its fleeting iworry that even love is fleeting

You: idk i know we only hav the present

You: like all the advice uve given me i trust it

You: i just freak out thinking of the big picture

Stranger: Relax 😄

Stranger: It’s not all that serious

Stranger: Don’t forget to live along the way

Stranger: Love was never meant to be safe or measured!

Stranger: You got to be brave and love irritationally

You: i think that that is fair i just i go long stretches living and then i remember the whole question of why and how shud i live and i get all tangled up again

Stranger: And instead of being scared, trusting yourself with it

You: i think i need to trust more and i think faith is trust

Stranger: Grow and learn to trust yourself

You: i want to have more faith in myself in others in the future i just worry the way i acheive this will only be a bandaid i want more than blind faith i want to see the world and see it as it is and still feel love and joy and trust the universe and myself to experience it correctly and even let go of the whole concept of correct.

Stranger: I also think I might fall asleep soon lol

You: thanks for listening i think i will too lol good luck i wish you all the best <£

You: <3

Stranger: That’s what I wish you too

Stranger: From the bottom of my heart

You: :-)

Stranger: Take care strangee

You: u 2 :-)

Stranger: Stranger*

[learnbywords]

The Bold | Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind

It’s a bold move for Yuval Noah Harari to write a synopsis of all sapiens history. He starts with a timeline of all history, even before humans existed. I would’ve liked to highlight some of those events, but how do you choose important events reaching back to 13,800,000,000 years ago? The timeline begins at the Big Bang, the point at which the Newtonian laws of physics makes its first steps. I knew the age of the universe before reading this book, but it’s still awe-inspiring when I consider it. Homo Sapiens is the scientific term for our own species (I’m assuming only Homo Sapiens are reading this), but the author points out that human refers to all species under the genus Homo. Other human species are Homo Erectus, Homo Neanderthalensis, and Homo Australopithecus. Harari focuses on the only species that aren’t extinct, Homo Sapiens.

This isn’t a book summary. I’d want people to try to read it on their own. I feel that doing a summary would stifle that goal. This post is just about the thoughts that this book inspired.

Creatio ex nihilo:

There’s this Latin phrase we have in Christian circles: Creatio ex nihilo. It means creation out of nothing. It refers to God creating the universe out of void. The idea gets ridiculed a lot, but I think there’s something to it.

The book talks a lot about language. It points out that Homo Sapiens became dominant on earth because of complex language. Many animals have a simple language: apes have calls to warn others of predators, ants use chemicals to direct others to food, and birds sing to find mates during spring. But our complex language allows us to do more; we can share imaginations together. People around the world can unite around common ideas like religion, human rights, nations, and even sports teams. I’d have a hard time having a productive friendship with someone on the other side of the world, but we can work towards a goal if we share a common idea.

I brought up Creatio ex nihilo because, like the Christian God, humans use language to create. God speaks the universe into existence. He says, “Let there be light,” and there is. Of course, humans create things like religion, economics, and psychology with language, but I think we also create things within ourselves. There’s an old memory that shows itself in my mind often. My mom is driving us to a Burger King to pick up food. We order and wait in the car. She tells me to go inside to get the food once it’s prepared. I do just that, bring the food back into the car, and crumble into tears. She asks me what’s wrong, but I can only express myself through raw emotion. It’s not that I didn’t know why, but I had no words for it.

I was sensitive to the way that my mom spoke to me. Her words felt harsh and took me by surprise. I was fine right before this event. I was comfortable and doing my own thing, and my mom’s words punched me right in the gut. It hurt me. She didn’t mean for it to, but it did.

Language defogged that memory and made it refined and new. Words helped me to categorize, reason, and discern to create a memory that I could understand so that it’s no longer baggage on me. When God speaks, he creates material worlds. When we speak, we create worlds within our own conscience. That childhood memory became a bit more real to me when I used language to explain it. Creatio ex nihilo.

Admitting Ignorance:

Have you ever thought about what maps looked like before anyone had travelled across the world? They were actually… full! Before the 1500s, not one person had made a trip across earth, but people still thought they knew what all the earth looked like. The direct surroundings were drawn well, but if any navigator used these world maps for long-distance travel, they’d get lost faster than Gen Z’ers would without GPS. One of the most insightful things Harari points out is that the scientific revolution was sparked by an admission of ignorance about the universe. Humans said, “we don’t know everything,” and accepted that they could be proven wrong. That admission swung open the door to knowing more.

Welcoming our blindness led to unbelievable leaps in humanity. If a peasant living in 1000 AD time-travelled 500 years into the future to 1500 AD, he’d feel the world is still familiar. If he jumped ahead another 500 years to 2000 AD, he might have a heart-attack from seeing metal boxes on wheels, moving lights on a hand-held rectangle, and how needlessly fancy brunch and coffee are. Here are some more examples Harari uses to put our world into perspective of the not-so-distant past:

A single battleship today could eradicate all the navies of the world during Columbus’ time.

A small flash drive could hold all the scriptures in every medieval library.

A large bank contains more money than the wealth of all premodern kingdoms put together.

We’ve come a long a way only because we recognized how behind we were. We’ve got to know that we’re dumb to get smarter. I’m sure we could all use a healthy dose of honesty by admitting we don’t know the world as well as we think we do.

How to View Sin

This section might get more flak than the previous ones, but it connects with the Admitting Ignorance theme. People discovered that human knowledge was limited. With that discovery came a yearning to learn of what we didn’t know. If we have an incomplete map, wouldn’t you want to adventure to complete it? The thought reminds me of the Zelda: Breath of the Wild. You start the game with this map:

You eventually want to get to this:

(The red outline marks that map that you start with).

There’s a desire to dive into the unknown parts of the map. However, the real world is not as black and white as Zelda’s world. Instead of harming goblins and Ganon, people often harmed each other in the process of exploration. Imperialism and conquest. These aren’t fun words today. They’re sin in today’s world (which is right to a certain extent). But the results of these sins aren’t all bad.

The Indus Valley civilization is one of the earliest human civilizations that we know of. Evidence tells us that it existed from about 3300 BC to 1300 BC (a whopping 2000 years!) and was located around northwestern India and eastern Pakistan. The remnants of these people were first discovered around the 1920s. Will anyone debate that this isn’t a wonderful discovery? Is it not a good thing that we know more about human history from this ancient culture? Of course, it’s good! The thing is no one cared much for the Indus Valley ruins until British rule came to India. None of the Indian rulers or sultans of ages past had records of what the Indus Valley civilization was. The people who lived there would pass by the relics regularly but pay them no mind. It was a Brit who took an interest in Indian history and started the Archaeological Survey of India. That led to the research and preservation of the Indus Valley civilization artifacts. In this case, imperialism and conquest partook in the unearthing and conservation of this extinct culture.

Is there right and wrong? I’m certain the world would be worse if there weren’t, but life is complicated. Right and wrong must be clear and defined. At the same time, individual humans aren’t clear and defined. Bad actions can lead to good things, and good actions can lead to bad things. I’m sure we can all think of a bad experience that made us stronger people. Sin is always bad. People are always a combination of good and bad. I don’t think we should accept the bad actions people do. However, I do think we should try to understand why people do them and what results from them.

Conclusion – 2021

I started working on this essay way before the end of 2020, and I started reading Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind waaaaay before that. I didn’t intend on writing this at the end of the year, but here we are. All in all, this book made the world seem bigger and my own time feel shorter. For me, that means taking on a humbler position going into 2021. What does it mean for you?

[arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass]

Touch Me

@hoseam said: you know have u ever thought about riding Hosea's face or just Hosea eating you out in general bc I have,,, a lot

Anonymous said: AKSJSJSJ ITS THE BITCH THAT ASKED FOR DADDY HOSEA YES THANK YOU I LOVED IT; now because I’m a greedy hoe for hosea (I guess you could call me HOESEA ha) how would you feel about some smut that’s just him making you cum like 500 times just from lazy oral and he’s just having fun with it and ur just like completely FUCK KAJJSJSKKJ and he’s just like lmao and having a great time turning you into a mess

Anonymous said: Soft daddy Hosea tying up your impatient ass so he can take his time doing everything he wants while you are a whimpering mess beneath him

Anonymous said: Idk if you’re still open to fic ideas but god I would kill to read a fic of reader staying with Hosea in a hotel for a night and after a bath enjoys teasing him wearing an almost see through blouse and bending over with no underwear on trying to “innocently” tempt him and he gets so frustrated he just has to touch you even tho he tries hard to resist and be a “gentlemen” about it... bonus points if Hosea makes a mess of the reader (or on her) so she has to bathe again 👀💦

A/N: I am.... idk mate I poured too much of myself into this fic. This is the epitome of my soft feelings for Hosea. I’m crying. I love him. There were so many requests, I panicked. Forgive me for any mistakes, I proof read this myself in the middle of a class, so if I go badly in that test, it’s u guys fault.

Word Count: +5k of lovey dovey sin

Summary: light bondage, soft daddy hosea being the softest dom ever, praising every 5 seconds, you being a teasing little asshole, gentle aftercare DURING and AFTER the deed, soft touching, the most heart warming smut you’ll ever read, a compilation of requests that got out of hand.

Well, if anything, you had what was coming to you.

You felt as fresh as a spring morning, having just gotten out of a properly luxurious bath that the Hotel of Saint Dennis offered — even if they charged for it, you had deemed it a proper blessing after weeks on end getting cleaned up with nothing but a bucket of freezing cold water. It wasn’t always that you could afford yourself such small luxuries, much less with Hosea’s company, given that the man was most of the time running after Dutch to make sure the man wouldn’t end up killing himself — or the whole gang, for that matter — in his crazy plans.

You cocked your head to the side, bending your knees on the soft bedding and allowing the white cotton shirt to ride up your thighs, watching the man sitting across from you in one of the lavish velvet armchairs of the room. He seemed to be too focused on the book he had in hand to be paying much attention to you — not that you minded. It was nice at times, the quiet moments of intimacy that you both had, companionable silence in his tent at late nights as he would read on and on to the light of the lantern and you’d drift off to his hand caressing your ankle.

With a smirk, you rolled to the side and stretched in the bed, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. The shirt had been pushed up once more, now reaching your waist and giving an ample view of your backside and “goods”. Not that you were trying to rile Hosea up — well, maybe —, but it was nice to see just for how long he’d keep up the respectable gentleman-y façade before giving in to your teasing.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing there,” Hosea commented idly, flicking the page of his book and that prompted an amused huff from you.

“Me?,” you feigned innocence and looked over your shoulder, with doe eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”

Hosea’s lips twitched up before he decided to look at you with an expression that made it clear that he didn’t really believe you. “What a terrible liar you are.”

You hummed, smiling softly even though you knew he couldn’t really see it. “Can’t help that my tongue isn’t as skilled as yours, dear,” you rolled to the other side, now lying with your belly up and catching his eyes with yours. “We both know you’re the specialist here, ain’t you?”

The man shook his head, although you could notice the slightest hint of a flush on the tips of his ears. He was hooked. “Little vixen, you are.”

“Won’t you come touch me?,” you teased further, running a hand down your thigh to stop it right over your knee. “We have this bed all for ourselves, such a shame if we let it go to waste…”

Hosea huffed a laugh, placing a dried off golden leaf between the pages of the book he was reading, in an all too familiar and well practiced motion. As much as you loved watching him read and be his introvert self, you loved it even more when he pampered you with attention.

“What am I supposed to do with you?,” Hosea smiled now, loosely clasping his hands on top of his stomach as he watched you from afar. He looked really handsome like this, barefoot, down to his sleeping shirt and pants, none of the daily apparel you were so used to see him in. “Giving me a run for some peace and quiet, is that so?”

You smiled, shifting your legs to make the sleepshirt that wasn’t really yours accompany your movements, caressing you as it clung to your skin, flashing your intimacy at him. “Come and teach me a lesson, daddy,” you whispered, parting your legs and snaking a hand down to your entrance with a soft sigh. “I’m dying to have you all for myself tonight.” Hosea hummed, amused by your wanton display. He wasn’t uninterested — more like enjoying the little show you put up for him —, but stayed silent as you slowly caressed your sex. “Won’t you come and teach me how to behave?”

“Should be more careful with what you ask for, sweetheart,” Hosea said, quietly. His voice, usually chirpy and good natured, had adopted a darker tone, like a low rasp — and that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come and touch me,” you whispered in a sultry voice, slipping a finger inside with a tiny gasp, already feeling impatient, “been missin’ you…”

Hosea smirked, strained. He was enjoying your little show, perhaps far too much; unwilling to put a short end to it, but his mask of decency — if you could call it that — was starting to crack. He shifted on the armchair, adjusting his position. “Lookin’ so pretty it’d be a shame to waste the view, ain’t that so?”

At that, you huffed out a breath, something in the middle of a laugh and a whimper. “Don’t be dense, you know I don’t like waitin’ ‘round…”

“That so?,” Hosea inquired, still perched on the luxurious armchair; as a proud ruler to a small kingdom. “Don’t think you know what you askin’ for, darlin’.”

You smiled wickedly, feeling the growing wetness between your legs thanks to the subtle threat thrown your way. Another finger slipped in, making you moan and arch your back slightly.

“That feel good, sweetheart?,” Hosea’s voice sounded impossibly low, contrasting the soft crackling of the fire in the fancy hearth of the rented room.

You whimpered, needy and hot in face of the sweetness of Hosea’s voice. He knew how to get you worked up far too well, and that pushed you to move your fingers slowly in a gentle come-hither motion. Hosea clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side as he watched you make a mess of yourself.

“Look at ya,” he chirped, although you could hear the cutting edge of his voice, straining to keep control, “a lil’ troublemaker, ain’t you?”

Gasping out a laugh, you lolled your head to the side to lock eyes with him, still pumping your fingers in and out. Hosea watched you with half lidded eyes, flickering every now and then to your entrance and, you knew, marveling at how wet you seemed to be.

Now was the moment to strike.

“Come touch me,” you pleaded, puffing out your chest in an attempt to seem even more enticing, “I want you.”

Hosea smiled, pleased at your choice of words. “Might disagree on who has the silver tongue around here, don’t ya think?”

The man got to his feet, his half hard erection marking the soft fabric of his trousers as he approached you. The bed dipped as Hosea sat beside your body, his calloused fingers gently caressing your torso through the thin cotton shirt. You whimpered, closing your eyes in frustration.

“So little patience, my girl,” he whispered, bending down to press a kiss to the dip below your neck, roaming hand moving down grasp at your hand. “Why don’t ya let me take it from here, hm?,” he offered, warm breath fanning over your cheek before he kissed you, slow and sweet; pushing inside at the same time.

You gasped gratefully, arching your back at the expertise of Hosea’s touch. He cooed at you, peppering tiny butterfly kisses all over your face, the hand beside your head digging pleasantly into the mattress as he built up the momentum. “So pretty,” he said in a husky voice, twisting his fingers up making you whine and turn your face to hide it against his neck.

He smiled, now pressing gently on your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Soundin’ so sweet today, darlin’,” his wrist moved faster, lips ghosting on your skin, “you wanna cum? Jus’ like this?”

Keening, you nodded fervently, repeating over and over, “yes, yes, please.” Hosea all but chuckled, whispering sweet nothings as you writhed under him.

“Go on,” he acquiesced, benevolent as always, “cum for me, sweetheart.”

Without much further thought, you did.

The well known feeling spread through your body like a gentle wave from the beach during summertime. Hosea pressed a kiss to your cheek before retreating and offering his cum smeared fingers to you. Obediently, you opened your mouth, mind still buzzed and thoughts fuzzy.

“That’s it,” he praised, smiling gently, like a proud tutor. “Such a good girl, ain’t you?”

You whimpered around his fingers, licking them clean to the best of your ability. Hosea’s praising was addictive, you had come to the conclusion one night after he had kissed your forehead and whispered about you doing a good job. “Yes,” you muttered through a mouthful, closing your eyes; the pungent taste of your pussy covering your tongue.

Hosea cocked his head to the side, watching you with warmth in his eyes. You were so eager at times he feared not being able to keep with you, but experience was on his side. “Wanna cum again, babygirl?,” he asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

“Yeah,” you said heatedly, reaching to palm his erection, “daddy—“

“Ah, ah,” the man took a gentle hold of you hand, insistently pushing it away, “patience, my dear.”

Pouting, you gave him a resentful look, “you’re teasing far too much tonight.”

He hummed in amusement, reaching out on the bedside table for the red neckwear he wore at times. “That I am.”

Your breathing quickened at the sight of the bandana. “We’re going creative tonight?,” you inquired, allowing him to pull your hands above your head and tie them up on one of the posts of the canopy bed.

Hosea smiled at your little quip, pleased at your willingness to go along with his lead. His hands caressed the skin around of your tied wrists, the cotton digging into it, almost reverently. “Ah, you know me,” he commented idly, moving down to your face and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. His gaze held yours when he pulled back, lips quirking up slightly. “I like to take my time.”

It was always like this, with Hosea. At times, he’d rather keep it soft and intimate; you holding tightly to him in the dark as he kisses your neck heatedly. Other nights, he’d let you take the reigns, following your lead as you rocked your hips down on his — never stopping the myriad of praises thrown your way.

But there were also nights where Hosea would rather take his time with you, using your impatience and eagerness against yourself. Some part of you was suspicious he rather enjoyed it, watching you huff and pout at him, but you knew it was laced with reverence and love rather than possession and personal gratification. It made your heart swell and throb for him.

You tried moving your wrists, clenching your fists and frowning. “It’s… too tight…”

Nodding, he immediately undid the knot. His hands coaxed yours to lay on top of the neckwear, tying them together on your palm so you could grasp at it. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, pulling harshly at bandana to find out that you were positively tied up. “Much better, thank you.”

“Pretty girl,” Hosea sighed, continuing his careful exploration, “a naughty lil’ thing, ain’t you? No one would be able to tell how much of a wanton lil’ vixen you are.”

His hand caressed your neck, playing with a strand of your hair. You relished under the attention, closing your eyes and let out a soft sigh as his fingers followed the trail of your collarbone, popping out the first button of the shirt. Hosea hummed, pleased at your responding shiver.

Another button popped out. “You look so precious wearin’ my things,” he commented idly, and you fixed your eyes on him, “so lovely.”

You arched your back, trying to hint on what you wanted. “Please, daddy…”

Hosea leaned over, kissing around the areola of your breast, making your catch your breath in your throat. “So sweet,” he praised, cupping the soft flesh in his free hand as the other kept on its task of taking off the offending article of clothing, “my lovely girl.”

You moaned, pushing your head back into the mattress. “Yes,” you whimpered, clenching your hands over the neckerchief, “please.”

He kissed the peaked nipple, flicking his tongue slowly over it. Hosea breathed out, cupping your breast in his capable hands — something you had always thought about, even before getting intimate with him, so capable —, squeezing the soft flesh gently in his grasp. “Sweet girl,” Hosea whispered, kissing the other breast, making you whimper.

Your cheeks flushed, lips parting slightly, “yeah.”

Hosea pulled away, fluttering a kiss to your collarbone. You didn’t protest, submissive under his touch and gaze; even expectant on what he was about to do next. He slid down the bed, the wood cracking under your conjoined weight as Hosea settled his face between your thighs; shoulders pressing up on your backside.

You sighed, trying to pull the man closer with your legs. Hosea didn’t budge, instead pressing a lingering kiss to the outer lips of your sex, sucking at the sensitive skin gently and making you gasp. You arched your back, closing your eyes in frustration because it felt too good. “Please,” you keened, shifting under his weight on top of you, “daddy—“

He hummed in response, a warning tone for you to behave; and you subsided with a disgruntled whine. Hosea’s tongue licked your entrance, hands snaking around your thighs and fingers digging into your supple skin. With a sigh, he pressed his face more between your legs, alternating between licking your clit and sucking at the inner lips of it. The build-up had been far quicker than what you had expected but, hey, you weren’t about to complain. His focus changed to your clit, teasing it softly the way he know you liked until—

“Oh—,” you gasped, twisting your hips, feeling it tense as another orgasm, this one softer, rippled through your body. Hosea wasn’t detained by that, mouth still working around your pussy.

With a pleased little hum, his hand let go of your thigh, moving to press two fingers into your dripping entrance as you thrashed. You whimpered, feeling the gentle tease inside of you again, torn between frustration and pleasure. “Please—“

The arm still holding your leg shifted to rest on top of your stomach and navel, to keep you down. Hosea sighed, scissoring his fingers as his tongue teased your entrance before moving to your clit again. He was unrelenting, moaning into your cunt as you still spasming sex clenched once more; his fingers pressing up at the spot that he knew made you swoon.

“I... I—,” you choked, feeling as if you were about to burst once more, sweat already covering your body in a fine sheen, “I’m—“

Hosea doubled his efforts then and you cried out, trying to fight off the pressure of his arm on top of your hips. He pulled out his fingers, pressing his face more closely to your cunt in an attempt to stimulate you further. With a shriek and tears at the corner of your eyes, you came once more, shaking under the weight of him.

You gasped for breath.

The hotel room felt like it was too far away for you to reach at the moment, so you closed your eyes instead; riding the feeling for a little while longer. Your body still trembled, here and there, little sighs that sounded suspiciously like tiny moans coming past your lips. Hosea caressed your knee to get your attention and you whimpered, turning your face at his direction with doe eyes. You could still go.

“Alright there?,” he asked with a smug little smile and you didn’t even have the presence of mind to remember feeling annoyed. You watched him for a second longer, turning your cheek for a loving caress. Hosea stole a kiss from your lips and you could taste yourself there, although fleetingly. “Good girl.”

You nodded weakly, not really sure to what you were agreeing to and pulled at the restraint with a desperate little gasp. Every time Hosea praised you, for whatever reason, you couldn’t quite tell if it was because you did something good or he simply thought you were deserving of it for being yourself. Sometimes you suspected it was a junction of both, although you couldn’t be quite sure. But any other thought left your mind as he smiled down at you, eyes committing every little detail that he could to memory before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“More,” you croaked numbly, agitating slightly. Your hands pulled at the neckwear once more, making the bed creak; although you knew you were more likely to burn your hands than break anything to make an escape, “please.”

Hosea watched you for a second, cupping your face and stroking it with his thumb. “Greedy girl,” he said in a level voice, coaxing you to open your lips and suck at the thumb that had been caressing your cheek. You complied without further ado. He cocked his head to the side, his cum slick fingers, still warm, brushing at your face with the devotion only a man in love could offer. “Beautiful.”

Opening your eyes, you fluttered your eyelids innocently. Hosea snickered, although he still allowed your tongue to run freely through the pad of his finger, the saltiness of it nearly addicting. You felt somewhat numb, tired and spent, but you still wanted more. You always wanted more.

The opened shirt still clung to your body, bunching up and pooling around your shoulders from the wild thrashing. Hosea cooed softly, popping the finger out of your mouth with a protestant whimper coming from you. “Come now, be a good girl for me,” he half-laughed, moving to untie your wrists from the bedpost.

You squirmed, feeling the slight soreness of your arms. It didn’t hurt, but wasn’t comfortable neither — and you kinda hoped he’d keep you tied up.

“Turn around for me, baby,” Hosea asked, petting your head. You obliged happily.

His hands undid the knot on your palm, squeezing them gently to work back the feeling into them. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly, thanking the heavens for the crisp smell of velvety sheets against your face, “good.”

Hosea hummed, moving to slowly rub at your forearms and biceps, his calloused hands adding even more feeling to it; making you almost drowsy with sleep. You sighed in pleasure, lolling your head to the side to allow him to massage your shoulders. He was so gentle and caring when lowering your arms you quite literally didn’t notice it until the knot had been tied with your hands behind your back.

Your breathing caught in your throat, some small part at the back of your mind panicking until you caught sight of the man beside you. Hosea smiled, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand as if petting a particularly affectionate cat.

It made you at ease.

“Such a good, good girl,” he said in a secretive tone, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple; and you could feel your eyes going hazy with the gather of satisfied tears. You loved pleasing him. It was so easy, so good; so sweet.

You whimpered, squirming weakly. You still wanted more, a lot more — how could he not tell?

Hosea smiled down at you, pleased at how easily he had managed to break your mischievous spirit for the night. You were a hardworking one, eager to please and easy to subdue — but what he liked the most about you was how you’d manage to make him feel like he was still on top of his game, still young and able.

“My precious girl,” Hosea whispered, caressing your clothed back through the thin and drenched through nightshirt, making you keen lowly. His hand was heavy on your body, comforting and warm, you thought idly; mind too fuzzy to keep rational track of the situation. You felt him moving to scratch the back of your head, eliciting a pleased moan from you. He said something else, a praise by the sound of it, but you didn’t — or couldn’t — register it.

Next thing you knew, Hosea coaxed you to move again; this time on top of his body as he settled in the bed beside you. Your thighs spread to accommodate on his lap, your head resting securely against his chest and his erection pressing insistently to your entrance through the pants he wore to bed. Your breathing deepened, becoming more labored and making you squirm on top of him with want. “Daddy, I’m—“

“It’s okay,” Hosea shushed you, pulling at the nightshirt to expose your back to his careful exploration, “feelin’ good?”

You nodded weakly, closing your eyes again. His fingertips pressed to your skin in a loving way, making you sigh in pleasure. His hips rocked up to yours, the soft fabric soaking through with your essence, making you struggle weakly against the bindings on your wrist. “I want…”

“Yeah?,” he cooed sweetly at you, petting the soft expansion of your backside up to your shoulder blades, raising goosebumps on your skin. You ground your hips on his, tensing your thighs in blind desire. “What’s it that you want, hm?”

With a displeased groan, you hid your face into his neck, nuzzling your face there and breathing in the scent you had grown so used to — herbs, lavender soap and the musky smell of after-shave —, so comforting and familiar. Hosea slid one hand down to your backside, snaking his arm around your waist to keep you there. You felt the gentle caress of his hand on your cheek, catching the frustrated tears gathered at the corner of your eyes.

You felt too far gone to answer properly, clinging to him like a lifeline, feeling shy and needy atop of the man. He hummed, squeezing the skin of your waist to catch your attention, hand still brushing your cheek and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “C’mon, now,” he whispered, voice comforting and soft, “tell me.”

“I want…,” you tried to answer in a breathy voice, shivering with need. He prompted you on, petting your head like one would do to a cat. That took a low and pleased little whine from you, your face turning in the direction of his affection. “I want you…”

“Good girl,” Hosea praised, letting go of your waist to fiddle with the buttons of his pants below you, undoing them hastily, “good, good girl,” he pressed his lips to the side of your face, peppering it with kisses and making you whine in need, “shush, shush…”

Too caught up in your own mind to take notice of what was happening, you allowed the man to push your body up; his hand a steadying force on your waist to help you balance yourself on top of him. Your back touched his raised thighs, supporting your weight when you finally got there, making your breathing quicken.

Looking down, you watched the length of him, hot and firm for you, nestled comfortably between your spread legs; his pants barely taken off.

You mewled, shifting your gaze to him before moving it back down. “Now, now,” you complained, squirming on top of him, as if you’d be able to slip it in on your own. “Hosea, please—“

Hosea grunted, knitting his brows together. You looked positively goddess-like, bathed in the warm light of the bedroom, covered in a sheen of sweat; flushed and disheveled because of him. It made his heart jump with affection. He took a hold of his cock, coaxing you to push up so he could get a better angle to thrust in, although it wouldn’t really matter with how wet you were.

As needy as you were, you complained loudly at the way he’d taken a hold of your waist, keeping you from quite literally impaling yourself on him. He wanted to take his time.

“I don’t want slow,” you babbled incoherently, frowning in annoyance. He’d had his fun, you wanted yours too. “I need it—“

Hosea looked up at you, somewhat amused by your neediness, sliding his hands up your torso to grasp at your sides. You felt the hold of him on you loosening up and you squirmed again, annoyed at being restrained and so dependent on him — even though the bigger part of you was living off of it. He let go slowly, touching your shoulder softly and, as if on cue, you allowed your thighs to give in.

The first stretch was always exquisite.

It didn’t burn, but you felt the pressure sliding in, every inch up from the depths of your core to the lips of your pussy spreading to accommodate him. It took all the little focus left in you not to let out a shrieking cry of satisfaction, leaning back to rest on his upraised thighs; the only thing going through your mind just how good it felt.

He watched you, almost reverently-like, and caressed your body. His hands brushed the underside of your breasts, your back arching in response and making his breathing deepen in response. You closed your eyes with a frown, moving your hips tentatively.

“That’s it,” Hosea praised quietly, palm moving down to hold onto your waist securely. Feeling more confident about not toppling over, you rocked your hips faster, not sure if you wanted to grind your core against his cock or rotate your hips to delay the loss of him. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?,” he asked suddenly, urging you to move faster.

You could feel the sweat trickling down your back, the neckwear around your wrists digging into the skin, the wetness of your excitement between your legs seeping to your thighs. With a broken sob, you nodded quickly, accompanying Hosea’s directions.

“That’s right,” he agreed, sugar sweet and velvety like chocolate, in a voice bordering the reverence of a repentant sinner. His hips thrusted up, throwing you off your rhythm, but you whined and followed suit, eager to impress and to be praised. “Feels good, doesn’t it?,” Hosea asked as one of the hands holding you shift to between your legs, gently thumbing at your oversensitive clit. “Could do this to you all night,” he commented idly, caressing one of your breasts and taking an excited little keen from you, arms agitating themselves as you tried to break free, “… and you’d let me, wouldn’t ya?”

“Yes!,” you half-whined, closing your eyes again at face of your burning need, far too gone to even try to maintain eye contact with Hosea. His fingers applied more pressure to your clit, rubbing gently and steadily, making you thrash on top of him, “so good, so good—“

Hosea breathed out unevenly and you could feel the falter of his rhythm when you struggled. He moaned something that could’ve been your name or a sweet praise, squeezing your waist to steady you on — or in a vain search for control, it was unclear. “My girl,” he moaned, urging you to raise your hips slightly, coaxing you to ride him. You complied immediately, the smooth drag of his cock making you whimper and want to lean forward as to allow him to thrust more wildly than you could in this position. “C’mere, c’mere,” he whispered, hands impatient to drag you down to himself.

Your head nestled securely below his chin, face tucking securely into his neck. You tried opening your teary eyes, seeing the freckled expansion of lithe chest as it rose and fell with the effort of fucking you. You felt Hosea’s hand on your neck, pressing your head more fully into his chest as the other took a firm hold of your backside.

With a choked back mewl, you struggled one last time, allowing the sensation of him drag on until you couldn’t. Hosea’s fingers tangled in your hair, your body rocking into his, following his rhythm to the best of your ability, your breathing feeling ragged and manic to your own ears and you don’t— you can’t—

“Hosea!,” you cry out and your muscles tense up, clenching tightly as you come, the sensation burning and consuming from within your core; chaotic and perfect at the same time, bordering the violent.

“Sweet girl,—“ the man chokes out a desperate and harsh sound, allowing you one moment longer of seemingly unending bliss before pulling out. “Makin’ me so proud,” he gasps breathlessly, the words jumbling at his throat and you barely had the time to open your eyes before you felt the warmth of his seed painting your backside in generous spurts.

You close your eyes for a moment, thoroughly exhausted and spent on top of the man, barely noticing it when he unties the bandana on your hands to free you — the only sign of it being the sore feeling on your arms and the slight burning sensation on the sensitive skin of your wrists. You moan, eyes closed and hands reaching for his shoulders. You had longed for touching him so long now, it felt like you hadn’t ever done it.

Hosea caressed your back with his fingertips, allowing his breathing to slow down before deciding to move and ready you both to sleep. You nuzzled further into him, kissing his neck softly over and over, making the man chuckle.

“Did so good tonight,” Hosea hummed idly, tangling his fingers in your hair, this time sweeter, “my beautiful girl.”

You nodded, feeling sluggish and sleepy. You had sweated through your sleeping shirt, the bath you had paid for earlier a waste now. “I wish we could do this always,” you confessed quietly, sounding smaller than you actually were, but still meaning every word. Luxury was a hard thing to find in this life, companionship and love included.

Hosea chuckled in agreement, pecking your forehead lovingly. He shifted under you, coaxing you to lay on your side at the soft mattress, getting up on his feet with a groan.

“Where you goooooing?,” you drawled in a complaining tone, extending your arm, “come baaack…”

He shook his head by the water basin, wringing the towel before approaching you again. “Clingy lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

You puffed out your cheeks with a frown, trying to look annoyed. “I just want to spend time with you.”

“I know,” he nodded with a half-hearted laugh, kneeling beside you and proceeding to wipe off the stickiness on your skin, dabbing where needed and folding the towel a couple times. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” you offered in a soft voice, already closing your eyes and relishing under the gentle attention, “and sore.”

Hosea hummed lowly, pulling off the thin shirt still clinging to you. “We’ll sleep in a bit, sweetheart,” his hands caressed your arms deftly, making you turn towards him and the source of affection.

You sighed tiredly, never wanting it to end. The bed dipped under the weight of his body beside yours, his hands pulling you closer until your head rested on his shoulder, your arm draped over him possessively. Sighing, you closed your eyes, already feeling the promise of sleep coaxing you into its pleasantness. The last thing you remember registering, the soft press of Hosea’s lips to your forehead.

[forgenotes-archived]

okay nevermind i’m doing the parent meta now !

OKAY ! S O ! i’m focusing this in three sections :  1- the matching pair of patio dinner scenes, 2- the “patronize bunny rabbits” scene, and 3- the two convos they have when they confront her about jd’s suicide bait and after barbara finds veronica faux-hanging in her room. i’m also putting it under a read-more bc like. it’s going to be A Fucking Doozy.

in this essay, i will - 

PART ONE -  PATIO SCENES . 

this one is more set-up to portray how shallow their arguments are in the second section? but it’s still important for me to get across how. absolutely DISGUSTING it is that they treat heather’s funeral with the same tone and cadence as the remington party. it logically makes sense that veronica would be more blase about it, seeing as she Actually Did It, but like. one of the stages of grief is denial. 

the beats of both conversations go: come sit down! how was the first day since break/heather’s death go? meet any cute boys? why do i read these books or smoke these cigars/because you’re an idiot/ oh, you too. gotta motor to party/funeral. completely identical tone and delivery, all the way down to mirroring the word choices in each scene. and it’s entirely intentional!! this is a tonal and thematic choice to further hammer home the fact that adults do not care about what happens in the lives of the youth, which is arguably the real villain of the film- complete and utter apathy. i could go on about that shit for ages but i will do that later lmao-

but like. as parents. first of all, you shouldn’t care so little about your child that somebody could predict exactly what you’re going to say before you say it, that you work off a script, even WITHOUT a massive traumatic event happening to them. they clearly acknowledge heather’s death, they just move past it completely dismissively. it’s disgusting and it clearly sets up that they don’t actually see her as a person, in all reality- her death is just a marker of the time, not the loss of someone important to their child. they don’t know the intricacies of their toxic friendship, so all they know is their daughter’s best friend killed herself. that is NOT the correct reaction to that situation. 

this further exemplifies the idea, for me at least, that their main objective is to keep up appearances rather than build a strong, stable, healthy human being in their care. as long as everything looks alright, sounds alright, it is alright for all intents and purposes. there is no WAY that conversation does not REEK of neglect. 

PART TWO -  PATRONIZING BUNNY RABBITS .

this is mostly barbara, but henry shows his blatant idiocy for a brief moment, too. the biggest part of this scene is barbara’s “little miss voice-of-a-generation, you ARE being treated like human beings” spiel, specifically because she’s not right at all when she says it. or half-right. it’s complicated.

she’s right when she says it’s not just a game of “doubles tennis” and that adults can be horrible to each other too- that’s like. objectively fact. but that’s a non sequitur argument and not at all relevant to the topic at hand, in all reality; because in saying that, barbara has likened people being assholes at work or talking behind each other’s back with EXPLOITING CHILDREN’S SUICIDES FOR FAME. barbara changes the argument in order to make veronica look irrational- what she wants is for people to be fucking NICE to each other, which isn’t an un-noble goal to have. 

veronica wants people to give everyone decent respect, and she’s learned that isn’t possible in the way things are at the moment. she’s frustrated, she’s angry, she’s dealing with guilt and fear? she’s dealing with a fuckton! and she’s mad that flemming is exploiting the death of a student (never mind her personal feelings involved with chandler, she still knows this is wrong) for television crews and ribbons. she sees that flemming ALSO doesn’t care about her students other than for appearances. she’s seeing similarities between all the adults in her life, and she’s finally ready to snap. 

barbara saying “when teenagers are mad about not being treated like human beings, that’s usually because they are being treated like one” (or whatever the exact quote is) basically solidifies the fact that there will be no change in the way people are going to act in these situations. they are not listening to veronica’s point of view here, and they are changing the scope of the argument to make her look unreasonable to dismiss her again, and they explicitly say, a la bethesda, “we aren’t planning on doing anything about it”. 

it’s an important discussion because barbara isn’t. entirely incorrect! she’s just brute-forced the argument into a different direction so that veronica can’t be correct anymore, either. 

also- note that she offers veronica pate at the end of it; she’s trying to return to the status quo, to proper appearances. sneaky bitch. 

PART THREE -  YOU’RE SUICIDAL .

this is. where they come out of their shells a little bit more, as parents, but i’m not entirely positive it’s for the right reasons. 

they are actually concerned, now that death is on their doorstep; however, it very clearly seems like showing this kind of care and emotion is foreign or new in their relationship. instead of sitting her down and asking her how she’s feeling, if she’s dealing with all of this okay, if there’s anything they can do to help- they start rambling off the instructions jd, a literal teenager, more than half their ages, gave them. they have NO idea how to deal with this situation, which is. partially understandable? there is no prenatal parenting class that teaches you how to navigate if your kid grows up to be suicidal, but. there’s obvious things that you can do that they just flat out did not.

they didn’t even notice she’d left the room! they were so wrapped up in their own chaotic “keep away from sharp things, toxins, high ledges, etc.” that she just. left the room. and they didn’t notice she was gone until she was already in her room! 

rather than saying this is evidence towards the fact that they don’t care about their daughter (which i don’t actually believe, for this part at least), it feels more like proof that they have never cared about her in this particular fashion- which is, to say, genuinely. having an emotional and caring connection is new, and they don’t know how to do it; which points towards them never having done it before in ronnie’s 18 years of life. which is severely damaging to a child turned young adult. 

later on, when barbara finds her hanging from the fake noose, i’d like to just. take a look at what she says-

“i should’ve let you get that job at the mall, i was just worried about you coming home late-” 

what. in the ENTIRE fuck. was that?

her ONLY THOUGHT when confronted with the DEAD BODY of her ONLY CHILD is that the ONLY THING ronnie could have been upset about, or the only thing she could’ve changed in her treatment towards her daughter, was getting a summer job. i know this line is supposed to be a joke (heathers is a black comedy, after all), but jesus fucking christ, barbara. get a grip. veronica has all but told them what’s been bothering her, up to and including the death of her best friend and the subsequent treatment of it (albeit not in a particularly forward or constructive manner, but can you blame her? seeing who raised her?), but barbara is the sort of person that would give a eulogy that said “i never could have imagined she would have done this. she seemed so happy! if only she’d asked for help... if only she’d reached out to us... we would have SAVED her...” while ignoring all the warning signs. 

CONCLUSION -  IE , I RAMBLE FOR A BIT .

in canon specifically, there’s no way that there’s a healthy relationship between veronica and her parents. they care more about LOOKING happy than BEING happy and that’s a huge problem in a lot of parent-child relationships, especially at the time this movie was made. not only that, but like. they don’t believe there’s anything WRONG with the way they are, and that’s most likely the most damaging thing about the dynamic. barbara and henry sawyer are neglectful, dismissive, unempathetic, mostly uncaring, and obsessed with their outward appearance; but they don’t think that’s a bad thing, and that has massively fucked up veronica’s mental health in a VARIETY of ways. i’ll talk about the effects on her at a later date, bc this shit is already over 1k words and my brain has now turned into super mario sunshine goo. 

[randomnameless]

I was browsing a tag (i know i shouldn’t do that) and i read an old post nerding about ancient civilisations and parallels with FE16 which made me glee bcs i love to nerd about history 

But then i was disappointed 

Important Agarthans seem to have greek names (?) so they could be ancient greece, okay why not (the superiority complex over the rest of the world feels adequate but then idk if Socrates (Soloncrates?) would call actual humans beasts or not).

But then it was affirmed that Rhea, not the Nabateans, but Rhea, was Ancient Rome (Romea?). She 1) razed the Agarthans, 2) expanded the Church in the continent and 3) allied with Wilhelm of Adrestia and later Loog who represents the various germanic tribes.

Which made me raise an eyebrow.

1) I’ve already posted earlier about the Sothis/Agartha war but here it seems a bit odd to single out Rhea amidst her people for having rekt Agartha when it was, at most, a collective action of several Nabateans, regardless of the fact that Rhea may or not have participated in the first war.

Also, in FE16, the Nabateans gave their technology to Agarthans, who in turn developed it and turned against them. Ancient Rome was tsun-tsun with their greek neighbours, but it is now commonly accepted that the first romans tried to “copy” or at least were heavily inspired by Ancient Greece to build a national identity. I mean Virgil even wrote a poem to make a Trojan ancestor to what would later become the roman people, and that’s not talking about how the old Roman pantheon borrowed the Greek one but with aliases worse than Danved and Devdan...

In FE16, “Greece” actually borrowed/received their technology from “Rome” but tried to attack “Rome” and failed. “Rome” retaliated, destroyed “Greece” to the point where romans don’t even know what “Greece” was and can only make suppositions about its existence. 

This doesn’t match RL history.

2) Expanding the Church in the continent : this is actually speculation, but afaik, when Adrestia conquered the continent, its religion would have automatically been spread? Still, comparing the Church of Seiros to another religion starting with a C doesn’t really work.

Adrestia was founded by a dude who had been annointed by Seiros herself. The Church, or at least Seiros and her pals, already existed before the Empire. Constantine the Great was the first Emperor to convert to christianity, but he was not the founder of Rome! Christianity became a “state” religion after Constantine. Heck, Julian thought his uncle’s religion was lousy so he returned to a polytheist cult.

In FE16, the only schism between Adrestia (the Empire) and the Church happened after the Southern Church was expelled, giving a good 1000 years of church approved Empire.

Saying Romea expanded the reach of the church through out all of Fodlan isn’t wrong, iirc part of the mediation accepting the Kingdom’s existence is to allow the church to preach in the newly formed kingdom, but i’m not sure it could be tied to RL history, because in Fodlan, Wilhelm walked side by side with Jesus, and Jesus crowned him Emperor. Jesus won against Nemesis. Adrestia’s legitimacy/creation comes from Jesus.

So I don’t think it’s Rhea expanding the reach of the Church through Fodlan, but more Seiros is part of the Empire’s lore, she’s that actual saintly figure who defeated the strongest man ever so everywhere in the Empire tales of Seiros and her deeds are heard of, it makes sense to follow/buy her story. 

Also, if the “religion” the church of Seiros preaches is the rewritten history, people must have “converted” after the unification of Fodlan and yet, if Seirosism is the state religion, and the state is controlling Fodlan, can we say Romea expanded her religion through the continent, or Fodlan, after being conquered by Adrestia, automatically became Seirosist?

It would actually echo the bid to allow the Church to preach in the newly formed Faerghus, if Loog wanted to fig off Adrestia, he might even want to have a different religion than the one from the Empire he came from, hell, the Kingdom even returned to the former naming practices existing before Adrestia. 

The Church would have wanted to make sure that no matter what Loog was doing with his bunch of humans in the North, he would still believe crests are a gift from the goddess, they shouldn’t be misused and if you ever find Macuil don’t murder him to make weapons out of his body.

short story long story : it’s the story of the egg and the chicken, did Seirosism became the leading religion in the continent because Rhea actively preached around, or because it was Adrestia’s state religion? idk.

3) Rome “allied” (well, TC said Rome lorded and traded with germanic tribes until shit hit the fan) with germanic tribes. They could be traded with. But they were not roman citizens. I’m not that well versed in this part of the Roman Empire (even if some part of France was classified as Germania at that time! RIP Franche-Comté T-T). Thing is, Rome never asked for Germania’s help to defeat some enemy, hell, when barbarians invasions happened, it hit Germania first and then Rome.

This is where the Romea analogy falls. 

First of all, Wilhelm became Wilhelm of Adrestia thanks to Seiros who annointed/crowned him, without Seiros there is no Adrestia. (iirc in one of Seiros’ books it is said Seiros makes emperors out of men, and the tradition needs the archbishop to bear witness each time a new emperor is crowned, so i suppose Rhea crowned/proclamed/anointed/made Wilhelm an Emperor).

Rome never had that kind of influence (afaik?) on the various germanic tribes. 

Before Adrestia we had Enbarr and, I guess, several tribes. As I see it (it may be wrong!) Adrestia is made to mirror Rome, sort of. Wilhelm “of Adrestia” set out to conquer unify the world. Now, did Seiros told him to conquer the world or did he came to that conclusion alone, we will never know. And yet, in the time period we’re speaking of (antiquity?), there’s no “Germanic Empire”. Adrestia started as an unified state, not as several tribes. Adrestia thus cannot be likened to “germanic tribes”.

Second, Loog did not receive help from Rhea, but it’s implied (still it’s from the shadow library so i’m not holding it against the TC) he received help from Mole People. 

But from what we know, in the Vanilla game, Loog defeated the Emperor of Adrestia. It is during the aftermath that the Empire, House Charon and the Church negotiated and decided Loog could found his Kingdom. I do not see how Rhea “allied” with the guy, nor, again, what kind of germanic tribe he represents given how he actually got his independance from the Empire to create his own Kingdom.

Then we have another set of facts which are less about history and more about the game, but for the history ones : 

Romea cannot 4) enforce the will of the Church and Western branch rebelling mirrors Rome’s western’s provinces being unruly and Romea gradually losing grasp on Adrestia 5) The Church isn’t completely sacked but still remains in CF to mirror Rome’s “gradual” fall/out of powerlessness (for funsies 6) Edel and the Agarthans make Rome face what they did to Greece and represent the germanic tribes coming after Rome after they managed to free themselves from its influence)

4) Unless I’m mistaken, the most occidental border of the Empire was the Atlantic Ocean?  astérix is a product of french chauvinism 

Northern borders were more problematic, we had Hadrian’s Wall to keep Picts at bay and in the 3rd century the “Saxon Shore” to fend off against invaders coming by the sea. 

Of course around this time there was an important crisis that weakened the Empire, so it might explain why there was unrest everywhere. This crisis saw the birth of the Western Gallic Empire, but also of the Eastern Palmyrene Empire (everyone was happy when Diocletian unified the empire afterwards). After, let’s say, 300ish, the Empire, in general, had difficulties to deal with and keep its borders.

Back to FE, the western church rebelling is actually at odds with Rome, because when it comes to religious stuff, the eastern provinces were the most concerned/active, not the western ones (1st council of nicea was made because of the arian controversy (The Son and the Father are the same entity or not? Discuss) in the eastern provinces). 

Apparently, the Western Church rebels because they don’t like/follow the creed of the Central Church, but if we wanted to keep the Rome analogy, it should have been the Eastern church rebelling. From what we see, it is not because they follow another religion, but they have a difference in doctrine (but then it is muddled because mole people, otoh, it is never said that the western church thinks seiros is a hax or the goddess doesn’t exist, they want to claim lands on behalf of Saint Cichol which means they adhere, at least, to the main dogma about saints) and really don’t like Rhea for some reason. tbh i think some “germanic tribes” converted to arianism but they weren’t the theologists who theorised it

Central Church lost its grasp on Adrestia in 1065 (iirc?) when the southern branch was expelled. Idk if everything was fine and dandy before, but given how Rhea oversaw the construction of Garreg Mach after the WoH and tried to resurrect Sothis with the Chalice, I’d say she already said “peace i’m out” to Adrestia and would just be there for some ceremonies (crowning/being a witness for new emperors i suppose).

I’ve said it earlier, but Adrestia is not supposed to represent the “germanic tribes”, Adrestia is Rome. Adrestia having german names could also mean that the devs were lazy because Gaius Claudius isn’t a funky name, but the HRE was situated in western-central europe. Edel’s rebellion against the central church could mirror HRE and the Reformation, save for the fact that Edel dgaf about the goddess bcs humanity doesn’t need gods or something. So the analogy doesn’t really work...

5) Coming to which, CF!Church is not anything like Seirosism or, i suppose, the former Sothisism cult. Various bloggers already tore this take apart, but the “Church” in post CF-Fodlan seems to be less spiritual and more of an organisation which is overseen by the Emperor. 

I mean, if Edel says humans don’t need gods, what is the Church supposed to do? Fodlan has a cult? A religion? Faith? Faith in what? People are supposed to be free to chose what to believe in, but it is clear that “humans” don’t need gods, so what? You can believe in whatever you want, but not in Sothis because we don’t need her, and fig to the children of the Goddess or fig you if you’re still a follower of Seirosism? Rome still exists nowadays as a capital of a living country, I cannot affirm the Church exists, or if whatever the church of Seiros did is still maintained.

Also, “Rome” as in the Roman Empire (kind of) survived with the Byzantine Empire and the HRE. I don’t think offshoots of the Church of Seiros would be allowed to prosper in CF’s Fodlan.

6)  :)

I cannot remember if Romea’s people (well a civilisation cannot have brethrens it’s not a being!) were turned into various weapons by Socrates and Plato (if they had been blacksmiths i’d have been more interested in philosophy classes i swear) but as far as i know Edel’s Adrestia didn’t wage war against Romea because of her conquests or what she did to Soloncrates/Ancient Greece, nope or to free Adrestia from Romea (especially since Adrestia got rid of the church since 1065). Edel wants to conquer the world and change the “system” in place.

Bonus : About names, yes, the devs validated the “Adrestia is both rome and germany combined” which is as WTF as it seems, and yet, last Emperor from the HRE was named Francis II with his birth name being Franz Joseph Karl which is very far removed from, idk, Trajan being Marcus Ulpius Trajanus. I don’t think the devs thought a lot about names tbh, still, if Emperor Wilhelm might sound “german” and yet his second name Paul, is latin (paulus) so idk. Ionius was apparently a name used in Rome?